The Night of the Bay City Bomber
by The Wild Wild Whovian
Summary: A series of suicides that involve bombs: sound familiar? Jim and Artie think so when they are summoned to San Francisco to deal with the matter. While there, a spate of nightmares about the evil Vautrain has Lily seeking help from a doctor. Pity the doctor she was going to see has been replaced! AU.
1. Teaser

_Thanks to Cal Gal for betaing, and for bringing Emperor Norton to my attention._

**Teaser **

"And here we are: San Francisco!" Artemus Gordon proclaimed as their private train the Wanderer slowed to a stop in the railroad yards. He glanced out a window, then crossed the parlor of the varnish car to sit down on one of the sofas by the side of Lily, his wife. "That makes our little Suzie quite the traveler, hmm?" He peeked at their three-month-old daughter. "So how did you like the trip, Peaches?" he asked.

Right on cue, Suzie set up a squalling. As Artie's partner in the Secret Service, James West, leaned back in his chair at the desk and chuckled, Artie too leaned back, but in his case with dismay on his face as the little one howled. "Oh no, baby! Daddy's sorry. He didn't… I didn't mean to upset her, Lil. Honestly, I didn't!"

Lily got to her feet, the crying baby in her arms. "Oh, of course you didn't, dear! But as we all know far too well by now, babies cry for their own reasons. And at the moment…" She sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. "…I strongly suspect a change of, ah… shall we say, scenery?... is in order. If you'll excuse us." Artie leapt to get the door for his wife, and she carried the sobbing bundle down the corridor to their stateroom.

"Change of scenery. Yeah," said Artie, his eyes following his two favorite girls until the swinging door blocked his view.

"More like a change of clothing," Jim agreed. He flipped open the fake set of books and began tapped the telegraphic key, sending a message to inform their boss Col Richmond that they had arrived. "Suzie _was_ getting slightly ripe."

"Now, James! Peaches really doesn't smell that bad, even when she does need a clean diaper. Mostly like, oh, butter on popcorn."

Jim chuckled again as he put away the telegraphic key. "I'll remind you of that the next time we have some buttered popcorn."

"Yeah, well, Peaches was also a bit disoriented from the lack of motion once the train had stopped. She gets used to the rocking, and then when it's gone, she protests!"

"I know, Artie, I know. We both speak Baby pretty fluently by now. And speaking of disorientation and lack of movement…"

"Ah, the horses. Do you want me to help take them off to the livery stable so they can stretch their legs?"

"No, that's all right. I'll see to Blackjack and Henry. You stay here and wait for the colonel's reply to the telegram."

"All right. I'm curious to hear the full reason why we've been rushed across the continent like this! Something about suicides?"

Jim shrugged as he donned his jacket and hat, and, just in case, his gun belt as well. "I've read the same lack of details in the newspapers that you have. Once we hear from Col Richmond, though, we should know more."

"Hm. A lot more, I should think!" Artie took over the seat at the desk and settled in to wait for the reply, while Jim passed down the corridor and over to the baggage car to offload the horses.

In the stateroom that Artie and Lily shared with their tiny daughter, Lily took care of the baby's distressing diaper, washed up, and laid down on the bed to soothe Suzie to sleep. One good thing about babies: whatever else might be bothering them, once they were clean and dry, they usually enjoyed a good feeding. Lily cuddled the baby close and nursed her to sleep. Soon her own eyes were closing also…

"Good afternoon, Mrs Gordon," came a familiar deep and cultured voice, insinuating itself into Lily's nap. "And did you enjoy your trip to California?"

"Hmm? Wha…?" Why, who was here in the stateroom with her? Lily could feel her eyes opening as she looked up.

To see a figure hovering over her and Suzie: the tall regal figure of Col Noel Bartley Vautrain!


	2. Act One, Part One

**Act One, Part One**

Lily gaped up at the tall man bending over the bed, over her and little Suzie. "Surely you remember me, Mrs Gordon," he said.

"Yes. Yes, I remember you! I also remember that you're dead."

A deep chuckle bubbled out of Col Vautrain. "Ah, so I am! And for the second time in your remembrance, is it? Or the third?"

That was a good point. Vautrain, otherwise known as Prof Harlequin, was a Time Lord — even as Artie was — and kept coming back from the dead. Not regenerating though; there was something else going on with that Gallifreyan nemesis, something Jim and Artie had said had to do with cloning.

Lily shuddered. The thought of cloning reminded her of the adventure nearly a year ago when she was newly pregnant with Suzie, the time those accursed space squids the Ghex had sent Jim and her husband off to capture Dr Loveless, whom they claimed to be one of their clones, only to return and kidnap her in their absence…

"Penny for your thoughts, Mrs Gordon," said Vautrain's smooth rich voice.

Lily jumped. How could she get so caught up in her recollections as to forget that her husband's enemy was right here with her and Suzie? "I…" she temporized, "I was just thinking that… Oh!"

For as she looked up at the suavely urbane Col Vautrain, he began to change. Slowly his body became shorter and rounder, his neck expanding and his shoulders shrinking until there was no division between his head and the rest of his body. Meanwhile both his arms and legs multiplied and apparently turned into noodles, gently waving as if they had not a bone within them. His skin altered, developing colors of fantastic hues with mottled blotches that shifted and strobed. And all around him a great bubble appeared enclosing him fully within a watery environment.

A Ghex! He was a Ghex! How could that be?

A multitude of other Ghex winked into being around him, filling the stateroom with their presence. _/Come along, my dear,/_ his voice echoed within her head. _/We shall be going now. The baby as well./_

And now Suzie was inside one of those liquid-filled capsules in the firm grasp of a Ghex, a little line of air bubbles rising from the baby's mouth.

"No!" cried Lily. "Give her back! You'll drown her!" She leapt from the bed and charged at the Ghex that had her baby.

Abruptly Suzie was no longer with that one, but in the tentacled clutches of another Ghex. Lily flew at that one, and now Suzie was being held by yet another of the space squids. "Give her back. Give her back!" she screamed.

"Lil!"

The stateroom door crashed open and instantly all the Ghex vanished. There was Artie rushing in through the doorway. "They've taken her, Artemus! Oh, they're taken her!" Lily looked all around her in a panic.

"Taken whom, Lil?"

Oh! But… but _here_ was Suzie, still on the bed, sleeping peacefully. Again Lily looked around.

"But… Artie, Col Vautrain was here, standing over us. And, and then he changed into a Ghex — the room was full of Ghex! And they… They're gone. Oh, they're gone." As Artie sat down on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her, Lily clung to him and began to cry.

"Shh," he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly. He slipped one arm from around her to pull a handkerchief from his pocket. This he tucked into her hand, and as she made good use of the cloth, Artie reached into another pocket, this time producing his sonic screwdriver. "Let me just take a quick scan," he said softly. The sonic made its garish whine for perhaps half a second, then Artie glanced at the results. "There. See?" He turned it for her to have a look for herself. "No traces of the presence of Ghex, or Col Vautrain, or anyone else. Just us, Lil. You're fine. You and Suzie are safe. No one was here."

Slowly her tears ceased and Lily's breathing returned to normal. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "It… It was another nightmare, wasn't it?"

"I'm afraid so, yes."

"Oh, Artie, what am I going to do? That's the fifth one this week! It's… it's getting to the point that I'm becoming afraid of going to sleep!"

"Well, you have to sleep, you know. Maybe there's something I could…"

A noise from the varnish car interrupted him. They heard the door to the rear platform open and close, and almost immediately afterwards a voice called out, "Jim? Artemus? Where are you?"

"Col Richmond?" said Artie. "I thought he'd be answering Jim's telegram; I didn't expect him to show up here at the train!" He gave Lily a tender kiss, then came to his feet. "You just try to rest for now, Lil. Jim should be back from the livery stable any minute, and we'll need to have our briefing. I, ah… hope we won't disturb you."

"And I hope I don't disturb _you_ with another of those horrible, vivid dreams!"

Artie squeezed her hand and left the room, closing the door behind him. A moment later she heard the swinging door flap as he passed through it and greeted the colonel, and directly after that came Jim's swift footfalls as he strode along the corridor to join Artie and their boss.

Lily sighed and lay back down on the bed. "Oh, Suzie darling," she whispered, tracing a finger lightly along the baby's cheek. "I wish I knew what to do. We simply can't go on like this!"

…

"Ah, there you are, gentlemen," said Col Richmond as first Artemus and then Jim came in through the door to the corridor. "Good day." He laid his hat down on the desk along with a leather portfolio, then seated himself. Both men came and stood before the desk, Jim in the military at-ease posture, Artie looking somewhat more tense.

"We, ah, we didn't expect you to come in person, sir," said Artie. "We were ready to go to your office once we received your acknowledgement by wire."

"This case must be a matter of great importance, sir, if you've come to us right away," added Jim.

"Yes. In fact, it is," said the colonel. He untied the flap of the portfolio, pulled out a folder and passed it to them, then sat back to watch their faces as they looked through the contents.

Jim glanced over the first page and passed it to his partner. Instantly Artie's eyebrows shot up. "The _mayor?"_

Jim, already looking at the second page, said, "And the commandant of the Presidio as well."

The colonel nodded. "Followed by, as you'll see, the Archbishop himself."

Artie, having received the second page from Jim, was looking over Jim's shoulder at the third. He glanced back at the first page. "So this all started… what, four weeks ago?"

"And each of the occurrences are roughly identical," added Jim.

"Right." Richmond folded his hands across his vest and fixed his eyes on the ceiling as he recited to them: "First, as mentioned, was the mayor of San Francisco. On the fifteenth of last month, at approximately a quarter of ten in the evening, the mayor was observed walking through the streets near the harbor. An old acquaintance of his greeted him warmly, only to be ignored. When the acquaintance attempted to stop the mayor and ask what was wrong, he was shoved aside — not angrily, you'll note, nor roughly, but… _pointedly_, let's say. When the acquaintance persisted, the mayor, in a very flat voice, a voice completely devoid of inflection, told him, 'I must not be detained,' and moved on." Richmond caught the eyes of his two best men. "Sound familiar?"

Artie's face had gone pale, Jim's dark. "Very familiar!"

Artie glanced again at the briefing notes. "But instead of heading for some public building…"

"Correct. The mayor, and each of the other men after him, headed for the harbor. As several people who happened to be present looked on, the mayor waded out into the waters, seemingly determined to walk all the way to China."

Jim glanced at the notes. "Until ten o'clock came around."

The colonel nodded. "Precisely as the church bells began to toll the hour, the mayor — and each of his successors in the other instances — exploded."

Artie gave a shudder. "And yet," Jim read, "when the acquaintance hurried off to the mayor's home to inform the dead man's loved ones of what had happened, he found the mayor himself, alive and well, safely at home with his family."

"Hm-mmm," said the colonel. "And the same was true of the commandant roughly a week later, and the Archbishop as well — although I suppose, strictly speaking, in the Archbishop's case, he was with his _ecclesiastical_ brothers."

"So none of them died, which is a great relief!" said Artie. "And yet…"

"And yet _someone_ died," Jim finished. "Has anyone been able to determine who the imposters were?"

"No," said the colonel. "No one has been reported missing, and with the bodies completely obliterated, there are no clues as to who our walking bombs were."

Again Jim and Artie exchanged a glance. Walking bombs!

"And you've managed to keep this out of the papers?" said Artie.

"Not I," said Richmond. "That was the mayor's doing. He feared a panic and suppressed the news. The commandant and Archbishop were willing to go along with that — but not, as you'll note, the fourth man to be blown up in living effigy."

Fourth… Jim and Artie looked over their pages once more, then found a page they hadn't yet seen. "The fourth man was… Oh, you're kidding me!" said Artie.

"The Emperor himself?" said Jim, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Of all people, Norton the First, Emperor of these United States and Protector of Mexico!" exclaimed Artie. "Oh, our bomb-maker just _had_ to pick on Norton — and I can presume why!"

"Because the word wasn't getting out," Jim continued. "The first three victims chose to keep it quiet. The Emperor, on the other hand…"

"Exactly," said Richmond. "The Emperor is incensed over the whole business, and it was only because the mayor promised to bring Federal help in on the case…"

"…in the forms of us…" put in Artie.

"…that Norton has been induced to keep his mouth shut about the matter. For the time being, that is."

Artie glanced over the pages again. "Well, you realize, colonel, this is very familiar."

"Had this been reported in the newspapers, we would have come to you with the name of person behind this," said Jim.

"Yes, right at the start!"

"I know, gentlemen, I know. This reeks of the handiwork of none other than…"

"Oh!"

At that feminine exclamation from the corridor, the two agents turned and the colonel came to his feet. "Lily!" Artie called, hurrying to the door. "Are you all right?"

She smiled wanly at her husband as he slipped an arm around her waist and led her to a sofa. "Oh, I'm so sorry, everyone. I know I shouldn't have interrupted, but…" Jim had poured her a glass of water, and she accepted it gratefully and downed it.

"Is something wrong, Mrs Gordon?" the colonel asked quietly.

"Nothing that never sleeping again won't cure," she murmured as Jim refilled her glass.

Richmond frowned. "Excuse me? Never sleeping?"

"Lily keeps having nightmares, colonel," Artie broke in to explain. He wanted to be careful about what exactly was said, since he and Jim had never given their superior a full account of their dealings with Col Vautrain — nor, for that matter, of their dealings with the Ghex. "In her dreams, enemies of ours attack her and the baby." Now he turned to his wife and frowned. "And you had another just now?"

"Yes. That's two in less than an hour!" She gave a crooked smile and added, "At least Suzie wasn't awakened by either of them."

"Hmm," the colonel commented, still frowning. He crossed back to the desk, wrote out a swift note on a bit of paper, then brought it over and handed it to Mrs Gordon. "This is the name and address of a doctor my wife sees whenever we're here in San Francisco. Mrs Richmond just swears by Dr Whitney! He's a patient listener, very discrete, well acquainted with, er… feminine complaints." He smiled. "Why don't you go see him? Perhaps he can help you with these nightmares. He's certainly helped Millicent with her migraines!"

"Oh! I…" Lily accepted the note and stared at it for a moment. "Are you sure I won't be imposing? I should probably make an appointment…"

"Tell him Col Richmond sent you. He knows me well enough." He gave a conspiratorial smile. "At least, he ought to by now!"

"Well… Well, thank you then. I believe I shall. Artemus? Do you mind if I go right away?"

"Not at all — especially if he can do anything for these constant nightmares! Let me go get you a cab… Oh, wait."

Though the colonel heard nothing, all three of the others turned and glanced at the corridor leading to the staterooms. "Oh, there's Suzie waking up," said Lily. "She misses me."

"Go ahead and take her with you to the doctor's," Artie suggested. "She'll probably enjoy the outing."

"Ah," said the colonel. "And lest I forget and get into trouble with my wife, Mrs Richmond wanted me to invite you all for dinner tonight. Now, I know, I know," he added as Jim and Artie began to object. "The two of you will no doubt be investigating until the wee hours, but you and Miss Suzie…" he said, taking Lily's hand, "can certainly come and represent the wanderers on the Wanderer, I trust?"

Lily found herself smiling wholeheartedly for the first time in quite a while. "You may tell Mrs Richmond we'll be delighted."

"As will she; she adores babies and will no doubt spoil Suzie all evening. Eight o'clock then?"

"Eight o'clock, colonel. Thank you." She swept off down the corridor to ready herself and the baby for their excursion, while Artie stepped out to flag down a cab.

Turning to Jim, the colonel said, "Now, ah… Where were we?"

"You were about to give name to the person we all suspect is behind this series of _doppelgänger _bombings."

"Mm, yes. But then I suppose I don't really need to tell you the name, do I, Jim?"

"No sir," said Jim, a glitter of anger in his expressive blue-green eyes. "I remember New Orleans all too well."


	3. Act One, Part Two

**Act One, Part Two**

Once Lily was away to the doctor's and Col Richmond had headed off back to his office, the two agents settled in to read through the briefing materials more attentively, making comments and notes, committing most of the information to memory. At length Artie sighed and set the papers aside. "You know who has to be behind all this, Jim," he said.

"Oh, yes. Same methods as the other time."

"For the most part, yes." He looked off at nothing for a bit, thumping at his nose as he thought. "And yet this time no public buildings have been targeted," he mused.

"Nor the public officials within them, true."

Artie nodded absently. "And I wonder if there's been any correspondence sent to the president? He got that letter the last time with some pretty amazing demands, you know."

"Yes, he did. But surely if more letters of that kind had been delivered to Pres Grant this time around, Col Richmond would have mentioned it."

"True, true. Well!" Artie slapped his knees as he came to his feet. "I guess we'd better get started investigating, hmm?"

Jim gave a slight smile; all these years retired from acting, and Artie still used the grand gestures of a thespian playing to the cheap seats. "We'll start by reinterviewing all the witnesses," Jim said. "Maybe somebody saw something that meant nothing to them at the time…"

"…but will be able to point us in the right direction now, yeah," said Artie. As he and Jim donned their jackets and hats, then went into the baggage car to grab a few items that might prove useful to their investigation, he added, "On the other hand, maybe what we ought to be doing right from the start is just head out and look for a spooky ol' castle right out of a production of _Frankenstein!"_

Jim gave a small smile as they finished in the baggage car, then set out to reclaim their horses from the livery stable before heading off to go speak with the very first victim of the impersonations.

…

Lily's carriage drew up in front of a charming townhouse, and the cabbie hopped down to give his fare a hand in exiting the carriage. "Here we are, ma'am," he said politely.

Lily thanked him and passed him a coin. The cabbie remounted his bench and whistled up his horse, and as the _clip-clop_ of the animal's hooves echoed away down the street, Lily marveled once again at the way a row of buildings here in San Francisco would poke up at an angle to the level of the hilly street. She tipped her head to one side and imagined for a moment that the street was level and the buildings askew.

Then she laughed. "Oh dear, Suzie! I'm getting more and more like your father every day!" She smiled down at the quietly alert babe in her arms and climbed the stairs to knock at the door.

She stood there, waiting, glancing around at the other townhouses on this quiet street. Then she frowned and used the knocker once more.

Again no one answered.

Lily sighed. "I knew I should have made an appointment first! Although… Well, the only way to make the appointment would be to come here anyway, wouldn't it, and as no one seems to be in… Or is it possible that I have the wrong place?" Shifting Suzie a bit to the side, Lily rummaged one-handedly in the reticule pinned at her waist. "Where's the address?" she murmured to herself, then gave a wince. "Oh, that's right! Artie told the cabbie where to take us, and then he — yes, he did! — he tucked the slip of paper into his vest pocket!" She gave another sigh of frustration, then glanced around, looking for a shingle with Dr Whitney's name on it.

She didn't see one. "Oh! What if that cabbie left me off at the wrong address? I should have made him wait!" She tapped her foot for a moment, then turned and strode down the steps and back out to the street. There she looked around some more, and almost immediately gave a cry of relief. "Ah! I must have missed seeing it before!"

For here was the shingle, right at the side of the gate:

_Emmett Whitney, MD  
>Specializing in Women's Medicine<em>

"Well, thank goodness!" Lily exclaimed. "But I wonder why he's not here? And surely he should have _someone_ to answer the door!"

Again she mounted the stairs. Again she knocked. And this time, when no one answered, Lily cautiously turned the knob.

With a soft _click_ the door opened.

Lily stepped inside. "Hello? Hello, is anyone here? I've, ah… I've come to see Dr Whitney. Is he available? Hello?"

There was no reply but her own voice echoing in the foyer. Frowning, Lily came inside and let the door close behind her — and then she tried it again, just to be sure it would in fact open.

It did.

She walked further into the foyer, taking in the tasteful décor, particularly the shimmering chandelier overhead, well lit with a score of candles. A small table stood opposite the entrance, upon it a lovely centerpiece of fresh flowers in a beautiful blue-and-white vase. A pair of doors flanked the table; a large mirror on the wall above it reflected the candlelight, adding to the illumination in the foyer. Against the wall to Lily's left was an ornate bench, no doubt for the use of Dr Whitney's patients while awaiting their turns to see him.

But there was no one here.

Lily crossed to the two doors on either side of the mirror and tried them. Both were locked.

"Hmph," Lily murmured. "Now what? Well, I suppose there's nothing to do but leave and come back later…" She turned toward the outside door.

A thump startled her. Instantly she whirled back. "Who's there?"

No answer. Or at least, no answer that Lily could hear. But beyond the mirror within a small and darkened room, a voice hissed sibilantly, "Shh! Oh, she has heard us!"

Lily looked around again. "He-hello?"

Silence. Silence that was broken a moment later by a gurgle from little Suzie.

Lily took yet another glance around, then turned her attention to her daughter. It didn't take her long to discern what was on the baby's mind. "What, _now?_ My word, Suzie dear, you do nothing all day but eat!"

The baby made more noise, becoming both louder and more insistent.

"Oh, very well!" Lily perched upon the bench and set about feeding the little bottomless pit, tossing the shawl she's brought with her over her shoulder to provide herself and Suzie with a little privacy, even though it was obvious no one would be watching.

From behind the mirror, two people were watching. "Oh!" said the one in soft but ecstatic tones. "How excellent! This is even better than we had planned! Do you know who this is?"

The other mutely shook his head.

"Then I will tell you," said the first. "This woman is none other than _Mrs_ Artemus Gordon. Yes! The wife of that infuriating Secret Service agent! And the nursling, of course, is their child. Excellent! Just as we thought, if we left enough of our calling cards about, the Secret Service would respond — and they have."

The other nodded eagerly.

"But we were expecting merely the head of the Secret Service to come, and made our plans accordingly, taking the place of his wife's doctor and making ready for her appearance here at his office. What a bonus to have the bride of Mr Gordon present herself instead!"

The other tugged at the first one's sleeve, gesturing urgently.

"Yes," the first replied, an edge of doubt creeping into the softly whispered tones. "Yes, you are right. The preparations we have made will not do for her; she is of an entirely different physical configuration. You will need to go out right away and find us another… Wait, no!" There came a snap of the fingers. "No, even simpler! We shan't need to do a reanimation this time. Go at once, Miklos, to the nearest toy shop, and procure for us…"

The voice dropped even lower. When the first was done speaking, the second nodded, grinning wildly, and rushed from the secret room to exit clandestinely through the back of the building. The first figure, also with a triumphant grin, left the room by a different door. Entering the hallway beyond, the first person schooled away the smile and unlocked one of the doors that led into the foyer.

Lily heard the sound of a key in a lock and looked up to see a slim figure made taller by the long lines of her red dress and by the matching scarf over her hair, the ends of which crossed under her chin and trailed down her back nearly to the floor. The woman in red stepped into the room.

Suzie heard the sound also and popped off, her head swiveling to try to get a look at whatever her mama was looking at. Swiftly Lily took advantage to put her clothes aright, even as she exclaimed, "Oh! I beg your pardon. I didn't know anyone was here. A, ah… a friend recommended Dr Whitney to me. He is available? May I see him?"

The woman in red smiled graciously at her. "I am so sorry, my dear. Dr Whitney has, ah, moved on. I have taken over his practice, however, and I would be delighted to help you with whatever problems you might have."

"Oh?" Lily's eyebrows arched. "Are you a doctor then? How wonderful! I've never met a lady doctor before, but I think it's a simply marvelous idea for a woman to be treated by a woman."

"Thank you so much," the other beamed in reply. "And now, my dear, allow me to introduce myself. My name," and she held out her hand to Lily, "is Dr Faustina."


	4. Act One, Part Three

**Act One, Part Three**

The bells of the cathedral were just chiming the hour when Jim and Artie stepped outside into the evening air. Artie pulled out his pocket watch and consulted it. "Nine o'clock," he commented.

"And we've spoken to nearly everyone on our list," Jim responded.

"Mm. Everyone but Emperor Norton himself." Artie glanced around, frowning. "But who knows where to find him?" The two Secret Service agents had tried more than once this long day to locate San Francisco's favorite eccentric, but to no avail. "What do you think, Jim? Should we give it one more shot to find him tonight?"

Jim too glanced about, taking note of the fog rolling in across the bay. After a moment's thought, he said, "It might be better to start again in the morning. He seems to have a number of usual haunts, and it could take all night to track him down. Besides, I have a little notion that there's somewhere you'd rather be." He shot his partner an amused look.

"Well," Artie admitted. "There _was_ that dinner invitation, and we'd only be, say, an hour and a quarter late arriving!" With a twinkle in his eye, he added, "Not, of course, that I expect they would have reserved any of the dinner for us. But we could escort my two lovely ladies home."

"Mm-hmm, that's what I thought. All right, let's go pick up Lily and Suzie from the hotel, and while we're there we can go ahead and give the colonel an oral report on today's activities."

Artie beamed. "I like the way you think. And it being an oral report, you — you! — can do the honors this time."

The two men mounted their horses and, bickering affably over which of them would in fact make the report, they headed off to the Frémont Hotel where Col Richmond and his wife were staying.

…

On a hill high above the harbor stood a lone figure in a fine blue uniform, gold-plated epaulettes at his shoulders, a beaver hat sprouting a peacock feather upon his head, a well-worn walking stick in his hand, and flanked by a pair of dogs at his heels. He had just heard the church bells chime the hour: nine o'clock. With his lips set in a firm line, the man gazed out over the bay, waiting. Waiting, as he had done every night since the unaccountable events that had overtaken him and besmirched his good name a week ago. A bomb! A man dressed as he was dressed, and from all reports bearing even his face, walking the streets of his beloved San Francisco, then wading out into the waters of the bay, only to explode!

Insupportable! He had, of course, at once penned an Imperial decree deploring the heinous act and calling upon the army to forthwith find and suitably punish the perpetrators, only to find that the mayor contrarily wished the matter to be hushed up. Hushed up! Someone was altering the visages of unknown persons to make them look like venerable persons, then sending them off into the bay and blowing them up, and this was to be hushed up? Well, if the mayor would do nothing — although he had promised to bring in federal help, as if that were something admirable; for Congress, perversely, continued to meet and pass laws despite the many Imperial decrees the man on the hill had issued dissolving that pertinacious assembly — ah, if the mayor would do nothing, _he_ at least would watch over the city! And so he had taken it upon himself to stand guard each night upon one of the highest hills of San Francisco, gazing out over the bay, ready to send at once the nearest policeman to attend to any disturbance.

Bombs in the bay indeed! The Emperor Norton, first of that name, bearing himself with regal rectitude, held his position on that high hill, keeping watch over the city.

…

Jim and Artemus tied up their horses before the Frémont Hotel, stepped inside, and turned to their left toward the restaurant. A sight in the lobby, however, stopped them in their tracks. There on the oval sofa in the middle of the foyer sat Mrs Richmond, dabbing at her eyes with a lace hanky, while her husband the colonel hovered over her.

"What…?" Artie turned a glance at Jim. "What could have happened?"

"And where are Lily and Suzie?" For certainly neither of the Gordon ladies were in sight.

"Jim! Artemus! You got my message then." Col Richmond strode over, worry etched into the lines of his face.

"Ah… message, sir?"

"Well, yes." His eyes flicked from Jim's face to Artie's and back again. "Then… You haven't been to the train? You haven't heard?"

There was something about the colonel's words, matched with Mrs Richmond's sympathetic "Oh!" as she looked across the lobby toward the agents, that caused each of Artie's hearts to skip a beat within his chest. "Hea… Heard what, sir?" he managed to croak out.

"Mrs Gordon never showed up for our dinner. We don't know where she is. She and the baby seemed to have disappeared!"

…

The ride back to the train was brief, swift, and silent. Artie was too upset to speak, while Jim was busily turning over in his mind what might have happened and who might have been behind it. The train, though — home — that was the place to begin.

As they reined up and sprang off their horses, a burly figure dropped from the space between the varnish and baggage cars and hurried towards them. "Mr West! Mr Gordon!"

"Hello, Orrin." Jim greeted their engineer while Artie rushed on to storm into the train. "Are they home?"

"No sir, Mr West, and the telegraph's been clicking and clacking every three minutes, I think! I don't know what's become of Mrs Gordon, and I'm mighty scared to wonder!"

Jim passed him the reins of both horses. "Would you mind taking them over to the livery stable?"

"Liver…? Oh, sure! Yeah, I'll do that, Mr West. It'll be something to keep my mind off, well…" Orrin hushed himself suddenly, accepted the reins, and led the two horses away.

Jim could hear Artie's footsteps coming down the corridor of the varnish car, and he joined his partner as Artie was about to cross into the baggage car. "No sign of them?"

Artie's face was a mixture of worry and fury. "Nothing. Not a blasted thing. The desk is practically overflowing with the messages Orrin's been taking down for us, but I dare say Lily hasn't set foot here on the train since I put her in that cab and sent her off to see that doctor earlier. Well, unless…"

"Unless they're in the TARDIS and perhaps have lost track of the time or some such thing, right." Both men entered the baggage car and went straight to the tall brown cabinet in the closest corner to their left. Artie fumbled his key into the lock and got the door open.

In they went, into the impossibly large room beyond, a room far bigger than both the varnish and baggage cars put together. "Lily?" Artie called. And when the only response to that was silence — and a flickering of the lights — Jim added, "Rosalind, are Lily and Suzie here?"

Again the lights flickered, and the monitor screen on the console lit up. The two men strode over and read the words on the screen:

"NO.

"THEY ARE NOT HERE.

"THERE HAVE BEEN TWENTY-NINE TELEGRAPHIC MESSAGES IN THE PAST HOUR AND FORTY-THREE MINUTES ASKING ABOUT THEM."

"That would be Col Richmond," said Artie. "We spoke to him. And it's…" He consulted his pocket watch. "…six minutes until ten o'clock already! Where could they be?" Abruptly he snapped his fingers. "The trackers! Of course! The little tracking device buttons I've been stitching to Peaches' clothing!"

"Yes, and then obsessively switching them to her new clothes every time she outgrows something old."

"And can you blame me, knowing Harlequin may well show up again?"

"Not really, no. But you want Rosalind to find Suzie by means of the tracking button."

"Exactly! She's done it before. Rosalind…" Artie turned to the console and started to type.

He had barely finished three words when the monitor abruptly went blank. A moment later the view inside the varnish car popped up instead. As the two agents watched, the door to the rear platform opened and a svelte brunette peeped in. "Artemus? Jim! We're home!"

"Lily! Oh, bless you, Rosalind!" cried Artie and he dashed from the room, while Jim, a smile of relief on his own face, followed a bit more slowly, letting his partner have a few moments of privacy to greet his beloved stragglers.

Artie burst through the swinging door to the corridor just as Lily was laying the baby down in the bassinet. "Oh, Lil! I've been a nervous wreck waiting for you to come home. Where have you been, honey?" He swept her up in his arms and kissed her.

"My word, Artie!" She laughed and kissed him back. "If this is the kind of greeting I get when I show up a little bit late, I'll be somewhat less concerned about punctuality from now on!"

"A _little_ bit late!" Artie set her down and stared at her in amazement. "Lily, it's ten o'clock already! The church bells will be chiming at any second. You've been gone for _hours_."

"What?" Lily took off her shawl and draped it over the arm of a sofa, then set about removing her hat. "Oh, it can't possibly be that late! I mean, yes, I see that it's after dark, but I couldn't have stayed at the doctor's _that_ long! Oh, hello, Jim."

Jim nodded and passed on through, knowing better than to put in his own two cents' worth in a matter between a man and his wife. He crossed the room, then leaned over the bassinet as Lily continued on with, "Oh, but that doctor was so wonderfully helpful, Artie! She — it wasn't Dr Whitney, but a new doctor who's taken over his practice — she told me not to worry about the nightmares. The procedure she has in mind for me will _completely_ eliminate all my bad dreams in just one treatment! Isn't that marvelous?"

"It does sound wonderful, but, Lil…"

"Hi there, Suzie," Jim said softly. "Did you have a long day?" The baby's blanket was a bit askew and he reached in to straighten it.

"Oh, but let's talk about this later, Artemus darling! I need to get started on supper right away; I'm sure you boys must be starving."

Jim frowned. "Suzie?"

"Supper?" said Artie as a frown creased his brow. He caught his wife's arm, forestalling her from heading into the galley. "Lily, what are you talking about? You never fix supper for us. Rosalind always does that."

Jim touched the baby's arm, alarm bells going off inside his head. Her skin didn't feel right. It was stiff, hard, like… porcelain?

"Besides," Artie was saying, "we had a dinner invitation tonight. Remember?"

Jim scooped the baby up. As he lifted her, her eyes flew open. Blue eyes? But Suzie's eyes were brown, not blue — brown just like her father's.

"Artie…"

Outside, the bells began to chime the hour. Ten o'clock. On the high hill, the uniformed man with the peacock feather in his hat leaned forward, watching the bay, hoping there would be nothing to disturb the soothing peace of this night.

"Not right now, Jim. Lily, I can't believe you could have forgotten that the Richmonds were expecting you and Suzie to come for dinner! And wait a minute — a _woman_ doctor? You saw a woman doctor today?"

"Artie, this isn't Su…" Jim broke off, interrupting himself as he realized he could hear a new sound, one that he'd only just now noticed. From very close by came a steady _tick, tick, tick…_

And it was coming from the blue-eyed porcelain baby doll in his hands.

"Artie!" Jim dropped the doll and raced towards his partner. Artie, with no idea why Jim was running but trusting his partner implicitly, pulled Lily along as well. Together the two men shoved Artie's wife ahead of them as they charged up the corridor for the door between the train cars as fast as they could go. Yet even as they ran, Jim was reaching inside his jacket to grab something from his pocket.

Orrin, returning from the livery stable, saw the little group spill out the door between the cars and started to raise his hand to wave.

The next second the engineer was flat on his back, ears ringing, eyes dazzled, for the night sky had been turned into instantaneous daylight with an almighty _FOOM!_

**End of Act One**


	5. Act Two, Part One

**Act Two, Part One**

_FOOM! _The shockwave of the explosion thundered outward from the railroad yards, catching the attention of everyone in its path — including that of the man with the peacock feather in his hat, the man standing his self-appointed watch over the harbor. He whirled at the sound and stared in horror as a fireball of smoke and flames blasted upwards, roiling, turning in on itself tumultuously until at last it began to dissipate miles high above the city.

Yet below, at its point of origin, the orange of flames still raged.

Fury suffused the watchman's face. "A bombing — another! The foul fiends are at it again! Bummer, Lazarus!" He whistled to the dogs. "Come, boys. We may have need of you to apprehend the monsters who have done this!" And off he set at once, using his cane to hasten his way down this hill and up the next. His eyes swept the silent nighttime streets, looking for a policeman… Aha!

"See here, our good man!" he cried to the patrolman, waving his cane to catch the attention of the young fellow, who was running past at full speed.

"Not now, buddy!" the policeman growled back. "Ain't got time just now; didn't you hear that… Sir!" Having finally cast a glance at the man accosting him, the young policeman skidded to a halt and hastily saluted.

"You must hurry, young man! The bombers are at work again!"

"Yes sir, I know. I just heard the…"

"Pray, do not interrupt! That's insubordination; we could have you up on charges!" He pounded the tip of his cane upon the pavement. "However," he added magnanimously, "given the nature of the present emergency, we will pardon your insolence — this once — that you may spread the word of this act of wanton destruction. There has been another bombing!"

"Yes sir, I know. I heard the…"

"And you must go at once and alert the fire brigade lest the resulting conflagration engulf our illustrious municipality!"

"Yes sir. I'll do that at once, although I imagine they also heard the…"

"Well, don't just stand there jawing, man: Hurry! Be off with you! Make haste!"

"Yes sir, Emperor Norton sir!" The policeman saluted again, and raced away.

"That's 'Your Imperial Majesty,' young man!" Norton cried after him. He drew out a handkerchief, mopped at his brow, and tucked the cloth away again as he murmured, "And Godspeed to the lad on his errand. Bummer, Lazarus, come along!" Thus Norton I, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico, set off again to see to the welfare of his beloved San Francisco.

…

Orrin Cobb opened his eyes and stared up at the night sky above him, his eyes seeing nothing but the afterimage of the glare of the explosion. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. His ears still rang from the rumble of the blast as well. He gave his head a shake to clear it.

Ohhh… _That_ had been a bad idea. Slowly he raised a hand and pressed it to his aching head.

"Here's one!"

Suddenly hands grabbed him as a couple of men descended on him. "Mister!" one of them hollered. "Are you ok?"

Orrin could hear and see the fellow as if through three feet of water, but he could make out his words not at all.

The other man caught at Orrin's wrist. "His pulse is good," he reported after about half a minute. "Racing a bit, but so are ours, I'll be bound."

"Were you caught in it?" That was the first man again, speaking directly to Orrin. For reply the engineer blinked and frowned, then pointed at his ears.

"Can't hear us, I suppose," said the second. "Not surprising if he was right here when she blew. You go call a carriage to take him off to the hospital; I'll wait here with him."

The first nodded and rushed away. The second began checking the victim of the blast for injuries.

Orrin's hands clutched at him. "Mi… Mister West…" he croaked. "An… and the Gor…"

"What's that?" said his rescuer. "I don't understand. Something west?"

"_Mis_… ter West!" Orrin insisted, glad to have finally understood the fellow. "My boss. And the G… the Gordon family. Mister, Missus, and baby. Saw 'em…" His breathing was labored, but Orrin was determined to pass on the fact that he'd seen them leap off the train from between the cars. "Saw 'em jump…"

The rescuer leaned closer, listening carefully, repeating back what he thought he was hearing. "Is that it? Is that what you saw?" he said at last.

A relieved smile split Orrin's face. "Yes! Yes. You look for 'em. Find 'em. They came out between the cars. Between the baggage and varnish cars. Go look. Go on now! I'll keep." And spent from delivering his message, the engineer fell unconscious.

The rescuer checked the injured man's pulse again and, satisfied that the poor fellow was merely out and not gone, he turned and began waving and hollering. Someone from the volunteer bucket brigade already battling the flames dropped out of the line and ran over. "What's wrong?"

"This guy says he saw two men and a woman with a baby leap off the train between the cars just as the whole thing blew up."

"_What?"_ The newcomer turned and stared at the wreckage. The engine and its tender were in fairly good condition, but the car just behind that was off the tracks at the end nearest the fire. Steaming too, as if it might start burning as well at any second. The other car, though…

The final car was a total loss, most of it blown to bits. Only a block of what had apparently once been rooms along the far side nearest the baggage car was still intact — and that was what was burning. "You sure there's people there?" he said, dismay painted all over his face.

"That's what this guy told me, yeah."

"Ok. We'll look. But I tell you, I don't expect to find anything. Or at least… I don't expect we'll find anything we'll really want to see."

…

Lily stirred. "Oof! What's on top of me?"

"I am."

Ah, that was her husband's voice. "And where are we? It's as dark as the bottom of a well!"

"Darker."

And that was Jim's voice. "Are you two all right?" he added.

"For the most part, yes," Artie answered. "And you, Lil?"

"I'll surely have bruises in places where I'd much prefer not to have bruises," she replied. "Now, where are we and what happened?"

"We're still on the ground where we landed after we jumped from the train," said Jim. "Under that blast cloak you gave me earlier, Artie."

"Blast cloak! Why are we under your blast cloak?"

"Because," said Jim quietly, "the lady doctor Lily went to see sent a little present home with her: a toy doll instead of Suzie, with a time bomb inside it."

"_What?"_ exclaimed Lily. And Artie cried out, "Jim! Are you sure?"

"It was ticking, Artie. Suzie makes lots of noises, but ticking isn't among them. And that was a porcelain doll Lily brought home. _Not_ Suzie."

"But how could…?"

"Look! There they are!" A tremendous rattle of boards followed that cry as the debris that had landed all over them, obscuring them from view, began to be cleared away. A dozen hands and more reached down to lift up the survivors. The man who had found Orrin, having just helped settle him into a carriage to send him on his way to the hospital, now dashed off to hail yet another cab for this new group of blast victims.

And as the trio was supported away from the still-burning varnish car, the man who had conveyed Orrin's message about those who had leapt from the train looked about in growing dread. "Where… where's the baby? That other fellow, he said there was a baby."

Jim shook his head. "No, he was wrong. The baby wasn't…"

"She didn't make it," Artie interrupted. "My… my little girl. We didn't…" He buried his face in one hand, then blurted out the words. "Oh, poor Suzie! She's _gone!"_ And wrapping his arms around his wife, he broke down sobbing.


	6. Act Two, Part Two

**Act Two, Part Two**

Jim frowned at Artie, wondering what on Earth his partner was up to. Why was he proclaiming to everyone within earshot that Suzie was gone, and acting as if by the word _gone_, he meant _dead?_ And yet, knowing Artie, Jim trusted that whatever he had in mind, he knew what he was doing — and so Jim said nothing.

Lily on the other hand lifted her voice in protest. "But, Artemus, Jim said that…"

"I _know!_ I know, my darling, I know!" He raised his own voice even louder than hers, drowning her out. "As we were lying there on the ground, buried as we were by the rubble of our beloved home, Jim told us… _Oh!_ He told us that he hadn't…" Artie gave a loud sniffle. "…hadn't been able to, to rescue Suzie before the explosion. Oh, _Suzie!"_

"But, Artie…!"

"Shh, shh, Lily my love! Oh, we must be brave. Our poor lost darling girl would want it that way. Be brave, my dearest!" And as Lily opened her mouth to protest once more, Artie pulled her close and whispered, "Trust me. Please, Lil. Just trust me," into her ear.

She drew back from him, staring at him, but she stopped trying to remonstrate.

Tears still running down his face, Artie patted her arm. "She's in shock still," he announced. "My poor beloved wife! It hasn't sunk in yet."

On cue she leaned against him and buried her face in his chest.

"There, there…" He pulled her close and kissed her gently atop her head. "We'll get through this, darling. We're strong…"

The hailer of cabs ran up. "Here's a carriage!" he called breathlessly. "It'll take you to the hospital. Come on!"

As the men helped Lily into the cab ahead of them, Artie glanced around surreptitiously.

"What are you up to, Artie?" Jim murmured.

"See anything of our old friend Prof Harlequin?" Artie replied sotto voce.

Jim made a quick survey of their surroundings. "You think _he's_ behind this?"

"Behind it, no. Watching, very possibly. _Extremely_ possibly." He climbed into the carriage.

"Mm. And you want him to think Suzie died in that blast." Jim climbed in as well.

Artie nodded as they all settled into their seats. "Exactly. If Harlequin thinks our little girl is dead, maybe he'll leave her alone."

Lily clutched at her husband's hand. "So _that's_ what this act was about! But… she _is_ alive, right? Somewhere?"

"Alive and in the hands of the person who palmed off a toy doll on you instead," said Artie. He looked at Lily sharply. "But it's hard to believe you didn't notice!"

"Notice! Are you saying… But, Artemus, that _was_ Suzie! I'm sure I brought our baby home!"

"No, it was a doll," said Jim. "A porcelain doll with the bluest eyes I've ever seen. Bluer than mine."

"But…" Lily stared back and forth between her husband and his partner. "But how… How could I possibly miss that?"

Artie patted her hand. "Our bomb-loving friend must have hypnotized you," he said.

"Or drugged you," Jim added. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver to run a scan, then forbore. "No, it's too noisy. We don't want our cabbie wondering what the sound is."

"Don't wanna spook his horse either," Artie agreed. He squeezed his wife's hand, then said, "Lily, if you'll permit me, may I, ah…?"

She looked at him in momentary puzzlement. "May you… Oh! You want to read my mind?"

He nodded. "Just have a little peek at your memories, yes. May I?"

"Of course!" she said. "After all, this may be the only way we'll find out what became of our daughter!"

…

There were many observers that night. In a carriage not far from the railroad yards sat two such interested parties, driver and passenger, watching the outcome of the bombing of the train. Such an excellent blast it had been! And yet shortly a trio of survivors were discovered under some of the wreckage. "Ah, you see, Miklos!" the passenger growled in a passion. "It is not possible that they should live, yet they do! Somehow they have escaped the ferocity of my bomb. Unaccountable! It is as if these agents have guardian angels to watch over them."

The driver turned to her and gestured, his left hand within a large black glove speaking eloquently for him, as his mouth could not. "No, no," the passenger replied. "I was being fanciful; of course there are no angels to watch over them. I am a woman of science! I do not believe in angels."

They watched a bit longer until the survivors were loaded into a carriage and driven away. Then the woman said, "Very well, Miklos. Let us return to Dr Whitney's townhouse. No doubt our intrepid foes will be descending upon that site shortly to look for us, and we must prepare for them a, shall we say, appropriate greeting?"

Miklos grinned and nodded, then shook out the reins and started driving them back to their lair.

From the seat beside Dr Faustina within the carriage came a soft sound of protest. "There, there," said Faustina, leaning over her small companion. "All this will be over with soon. Do you know, Miklos," she added, speaking now to the driver, "I have great plans for this child who has fallen into our lap. I shall raise her myself, teaching her all that I know, and make of her the greatest scientist the world has ever known since…" She paused to search for an appropriate savant to name, then laughed. "Why, the greatest scientist since I myself!" She tipped her head to one side, observing the increasingly fussy infant. "But a great scientist," she mused, "must have a great name, something far more distinguished than such a commonplace name as Suzie. Let me think." She tapped at her chin for a bit, then snapped her fingers. "Aha! I have it. I shall call you Scientia. An excellent name for my budding little scientist!" She lifted the babe into her arms and smiled upon her.

And Suzie flung out her arms, arched her back, and howled.

…

Gently Artemus took his wife's head between his hands and leaned his forehead against hers. Theirs eyes closed, both his and hers, and everything around them — the city, the carriage, even Jim sitting on the bench opposite them — all faded away as a stream of images played out between them.

_There was the carriage ride to the townhouse… the cabbie helping her down, then driving away… the plaque outside the gate, the stairs, the knock upon the door._

_Lily inside the foyer, looking around but seeing no one… Suzie's insistence on being fed… the sound of a key in a lock, then an interior door opening…_

_Ah! Here was Dr Faustina; Artie remembered the woman vividly. Smiling graciously, Faustina ushered Lily into an examination room. After exclaiming effusively over the baby, she encouraged Lily to set the baby down on a cushioned chair near the door, then led Lily over to another chair facing away from the door. "Now, my dear," said Faustina, "I shall make for you a soothing cup of tea, and you shall tell me what great trouble has brought you to my doorstep this day."_

_Lily launched into the narrative of her nightmares — editing them somewhat, Artie noticed, to leave out the facts that Harlequin/Vautrain was an alien time traveler and that the space squids of which she had dreamed were real creatures she had met. "I… I suppose it sounds silly in the bald light of day," Lily concluded, "but it's getting to the point that the nightmares are robbing me of sleep. I'm __**afraid**__ to go to sleep, you see. I'm also concerned that my dreams will disturb Suzie." Here Lily half turned toward the door to glance at the baby._

_But Faustina forestalled her. "Here is your tea, my dear. Oh, the baby is fine; do not concern yourself about her." Sitting down opposite Lily, Faustina watched her assiduously as Lily sipped at the steaming brew. "It is very good, my tea," the doctor smiled. "Very soothing, very calming. Drink, my dear. Drink, Mrs Gordon, and let all your cares fall away from you."_

_It __**was**__ soothing, and Lily felt herself relaxing completely. There was just one small thing nibbling at the edge of her consciousness, begging to be noticed, but what…?_

"_I…" Lily murmured, "I don't recall telling you my name."_

_Faustina chuckled. "Oh, but of course you did, my dear! How else could I know it? Now…"_

_There was a sound, a very small sound from behind Lily, the _click _of a door latch. Faustina glanced that way and nodded. Sluggishly Lily tried once more to turn a look towards the door, but Dr Faustina's hand prevented her. "Now, Mrs Gordon," she said, "you will listen carefully, and you will do as you are told, and you will remember only what I tell you that you may remember." Smiling broadly, she added, "But you may rest assured, my dear, that the, ah, procedure I have in mind for you will completely eliminate all your bad dreams in a single treatment. That thought you may remember and treasure, Mrs Gordon. But what you will __**not**__ remember is that the reason you shall have no more nightmares," and here a wolfish grin suffused Faustina's face, "is because you shall be dead."_

Jim divided his time between watching the scenery roll by and watching the concentrating couple as Artie teased Lily's memories free. He overheard the scattered phrases that dropped from one pair of lips or the other: "Notice nothing wrong with the baby," "Return to your husband and his partner just before ten o'clock — but you will not realize it is so late as that," "Be as vivacious and charming as ever," "Offer to fix their supper — well, that explains _that!"_ "Ten o'clock — no later than ten o'clock!"

Finally Artie leaned back and smiled at his wife. "There we go, Lily. I've removed any lingering posthypnotic suggestions Dr Faustina made. There weren't many, I might add, presumably because she didn't expect to, er, have any need to control you after ten o'clock came and went."

"Expecting me — all of us! — to be dead, yes!" fumed Lily. "Oh! That awful woman! I'd like to give her a piece of my mind!"

"Then let's go do that."

"Hmm?" said Artie, turning to his partner. "What's that, Jim?"

Jim nodded toward the window on the carriage door. "We're nearly to the hospital, but do we really need to go there? I only have a few minor injuries, a bit of bruising from when we jumped from the train and landed in the ballast, but nothing worse than that."

"Right," Artie nodded. "The blast cloak absorbed, or rather dispersed, the energy of the explosion transdimensionally."

"It also apparently either absorbed or dispersed the impact of the debris that fell on us afterwards," Jim agreed.

"Yes, and it's a good thing that in the excitement of the moment you remembered which was the inside of the cloak and which the outside!" Artie added with a smirk.

"Ah…" said Lily dubiously. "Do I want to know why that was a good thing?"

"Oh, it's just that the inside is the safe side, while the outside is an open portal to infinity, that's all."

"Artemus! Do you mean we might have all been — what? whisked away to drift eternally through outer space or some such?"

"Oh, nothing _that _drastic! There would have been air to breathe. I think."

"Yes, but the question, Artie," Jim persisted, "is this: are you hurt badly enough to need to go to the hospital?"

Artie considered for a moment. "No, I feel fine."

"That's what I thought you would say," Jim replied. With a small smile, he added, "In fact, that's what you _always _say, whether it's true or not. But what about you, Lily?"

Jim turned to look at her, but before she could answer, Artie butted in with, "Oh, she's fine too."

Lily shot him a glare. "Artemus Gordon, I can answer for myself! And how would you know if I'm fine or not?"

With one of his patented lopsided grins, Artie took her hand and lifted it to his lips. "My profoundest apologies, my love. Of course you can answer for yourself. But keep in mind the fact that I was just inside your head. If you were really hurt, I'd have noticed."

Lily opened her mouth to admonish him further, then changed it to, "Oh. I suppose you would have, at that."

Jim nodded. "Then it's settled: no hospital. Lily, do you still have the address Col Richmond gave you?"

"Me? Oh, no I don't, Jim. But Artemus does."

"I do?" Artie patted at his pockets. "Oh!" Dipping his fingers into one of the pockets of his vest, he pulled forth a small slip of paper. "Well, waddaya know, I do!"

He passed the paper to Jim, who then turned and knocked on the ceiling of the carriage to attract the cabbie's attention. "We've changed our minds," Jim informed the driver. "We know a doctor here in town, and would prefer to be taken there." He read off the address.

The cabbie shook his head. "Mister, it's after ten o'clock at night! That doctor friend of yours is gonna be mighty upset with you, dropping in on him so late like this!"

"She… Er, he's a doctor; people showing up at all hours is part of the job," said Artie.

The cabbie grunted. "I suppose…"

"The quicker you get us there, the bigger your tip," Jim advised. "Oh — and take us around back."

"The back!" The cabbie started to object. But one look at the steely blue eyes of his passenger was enough to convince him to just obey orders and drive.

…

Behind the townhouse a private carriage pulled up and a woman struggling to deal with a distinctly unhappy infant disembarked. "Take the carriage down the alley and conceal it well," she advised the driver. "I shall make preparations for the arrival of our visitors."

The driver nodded, then pointed at the fussing baby and patted his own stomach.

"Yes, I suppose you are right, Miklos. We should attempt to feed the baby. Perhaps then she will settle down." Dr Faustina frowned at little Su… that is, little Scientia, then headed for the back entrance of the townhouse. "Hurry, Miklos!" she hissed. "We must be ready!"

…

"But who is Dr Faustina?" Lily asked. "You two seem to know so much about her."

"We have reason to," said Jim darkly.

"Yes," Artie nodded. "Lil, you remember that case in New Orleans, the one right after we ran into each other in that Chinese restaurant?"

"The one where everyone believed Jim was dead, and then someone made a duplicate of you, Artie? That walking bomb who insulted me and knocked Mother… well, heels over apple cart, you know."

"Exactly," said Jim. "_That_ case."

Lily gasped and threw her hand over her mouth. "Oh! And now the same thing is happening here: walking bombs setting themselves off out in the bay!"

"Mm-hmm," Artie nodded. "And the little ol' bomb-maker is none other than our favorite Dr Frankenstein imitator."

"Dr Faustina?"

"Yes. Back in New Orleans she captured Jim and later me, and made a life-mask of my face with soft clay — I suppose she did the same to you, Jim?"

"No doubt. She knocked me out first thing, so I don't remember that part of it. But she used our likenesses as the patterns for the faces on her walking bombs…"

"You know, that's something that puzzles me," Artie cut in. "I mean, she obviously did plastic surgery on the cadavers to make them look like us, but _how?_ The men were dead, so they couldn't heal. There had to have been stitches or some other method of — what? gluing the skin back together? But if so, I never spotted any suture lines. For that matter," he mused, "shouldn't the men's faces have been puffy from the operation, even bruised?"

"Artie…"

"Oh no, wait. No, until she reanimated them by sending lightning surging through them — and I still don't see how that works either! — their hearts weren't pumping…"

"Artie…"

"…and without the blood circulating, there wouldn't be any fluids leaking from the blood vessels to cause either edema or bruising, so…"

"Artie!"

"Hmm? What's that, Jim?"

Jim glanced toward Lily, drawing Artie's attention to his wife, who was definitely beginning to look a bit green around the gills. "Oops! Sorry about that, Lily. I should be a bit more careful about talking shop around you, I guess."

With an effort she swallowed hard, then murmured, "Please."

Their carriage rolled on through the nearly empty streets, passing a man in a resplendent uniform with a peacock feather in his hat, and a pair of dogs bounding along at his heels.

…

"Oh, Miklos, I am so glad you have come at last! Here!" Dr Faustina turned to her assistant and thrust into his hands both the baby and a small contraption plainly cobbled together from a test tube and the rubber bulb end of a medicine dropper. Miklos lifted the strange item with his gloved left hand and peered at it curiously, particularly at the greenish liquid within the tube.

"I did not have milk on hand, so that is the best I could do on short notice," said Faustina. "And I drilled a small hole through the rubber bulb using a thin metal rod heated over a Bunsen burner. But she will not eat! She spits it out continuously!"

Miklos laid the baby on her back along his arm and attempted to insert the rubber bulb into the tiny mouth. Sure enough, Suzie spat the bulb back out and howled as if her heart were breaking.

"You see?" cried Faustina. "And I have no time for this. We have much work to do, and little time to do it."

Miklos' brows knitted as he considered the problem, then his face lit up.

"You have an idea? Marvelous! Carry it out at once." Her assistant nodded and limped toward the door. He laid the baby down in a basket, and taking the bulb off the test tube, he gave her the rubber thing to gnaw on against his return. Just as he laid his hand on the door knob, Faustina continued with, "Her noise, however, is insupportable. If you cannot induce her to be quiet, I shall simply have to give her a dose of laudanum. _That_ will silence her!"

Miklos, with horror on his face, waved his hands, then held them together with only about half a foot of space between them.

"Oh, do not worry. I realize she is small. I will give her only a small dose."

Again her assistant shook his head, his gestures imploring her to wait. Then he hurried from the room.

Faustina, doing her best to block out the baby's squalls, went into the cold room of this basement lab and rolled out a table. She drew off the sheet that covered the figure of a fashionably dressed woman lying on the table, and smiled down at her work. "A perfect duplicate," she murmured. "Now, to hook up the equipment…"

She had buckled the strap across the inert woman's chest, placed the metal cap upon her subject's head, and was busily engaged in attaching clamps to the pale wrists and ankles as well when Faustina realized she no longer heard crying. "Miklos?" She turned to see what was happening.

Ah, there was her assistant, leaning over the basket in which lay the child. Faustina crossed the room to have a look. "Oh! A gingerbread man! I never would have thought of that. And see how she gnaws at it! Excellent, Miklos, excellent! Now come. We have two processes to complete, two surprises for our guests, but only the equipment to revive one at a time. We must hurry!"

Miklos nodded and limped about the room as quickly as he could, switching on machinery. Soon a loud humming filled the lab, loud enough to have drowned out Suzie's former cries. Grabbing up the basket, Faustina gestured Miklos into the small shielded observation booth in the corner. From the window there the pair peeked out, watching as the figure on the table began to jerk and convulse.

"How good it is," Faustina called to Miklos, "that we were able to construct the Faraday dynamos! Without them we would have to wait for the weather to be cooperative, to provide us with the energy of a thunderbolt from the blue! But now…"

And even as she said it, even as she and Miklos gazed in delight upon the work of their hands out there in the main lab, the figure on the table suddenly sat upright, bursting the thick leather strap from around her chest. She reached up and pulled the metal cap off her head, and after staring at it for a moment, she tossed it aside. She slipped off the metal clamps around her wrists, followed by her ankles, then looked up as Faustina and Miklos stepped out of the observation booth.

The doctor smiled at her latest successful reanimation. "Miklos," she said to the man behind her, "go and turn off the equipment." Then, as he limped to do her bidding, Faustina spoke to the woman on the table. "Who are you?"

The woman, her face a perfect blank, took a moment to dredge forth an answer. "I don't know," she said, her voice flat and lifeless.

"Then I will tell you," said Faustina. "Your name is…"


	7. Act Two, Part Three

**Act Two, Part Three**

The cabbie was just beginning to rein up at their destination when the blue-eyed passenger ordered, "Don't stop. Drive on past and pull up at the third property beyond. Then wait for us there."

"I… Yes sir." He still wasn't sure what was going on here, but the one thing of which the cabbie _was_ sure, was that it wouldn't pay to argue. He did as he was told and came to a halt several yards down the alleyway.

Both of the men got out. As the woman made to descend as well, one of the men blocked her with an uplifted hand. "No no, Lily. You stay here."

"What? But, Artemus…"

He shook his head. "No. Look, the lights are on upstairs and down. There's no telling what we'll be walking into. You're safer here."

"Well…" said the woman doubtfully before settling back into her seat.

The cabbie's brows lowered. "I thought you said this doctor's a friend of yours."

"Mm. More like an acquaintance then." One of the men flipped the driver a coin, then both moved off, leaving the cabbie and the woman to wait at the carriage.

"How do you want to do this, Jim?" Artie asked sotto voce as he pulled a derringer out of his jacket pocket and made sure it was loaded. "Split up, or stick together?"

"Split up," said Jim. "We should find them faster that way."

"All right. You want upstairs or…?"

"I'll check the basement," said Jim. "The mad scientists we meet with tend to prefer underground lairs."

"True — but as I recall, back in New Orleans Faustina had her lab on the ground floor."

Jim smiled. "And stuck us in her dungeons underground, right."

"Amazing house," Artie mused. "I've often wondered how she even managed to _have_ a basement in New Orleans, considering how much of that city is below sea level."

Jim shot him a look, and they both fell silent for the final approach to the back stairs. Quietly they mounted to the porch, then Jim checked the door.

Unlocked. The men exchanged a glance, considering what the implications of that might mean. "We're expected?" Artie breathed softly.

Each man with a weapon ready in his hand, they opened the door and entered.

…

In the basement lab, a bell jangled. Miklos pointed to it excitedly.

"Yes, you are right, Miklos," Dr Faustina agreed. "Our visitors have arrived." She looked up at the ceiling as if through it she could discern the two agents walking the floor above their heads. "Quickly! Go and engage that lever!" she said, pointing.

With a grin Miklos hurried to obey. Dr Faustina, meanwhile, turned back to give final instructions to the woman they had resurrected. "They will no doubt be solicitous towards you; use that to your advantage. But remember! It is when both of them are within five feet of you that you must press the button, not before!"

"I remember," said the woman dully.

"Good, excellent! Wait in there then." Faustina waved a hand toward a certain section of the lab, then turned away. "As for _you_, wear this and come." The mad scientist took an enveloping cloak from a coat stand and threw it around the head and shoulders of the other surprise. Taking up the basket, Faustina glanced up at the ceiling and listened for a moment before nodding in satisfaction. "Now we will go."

…

Jim and Artie found themselves within a large kitchen. Three doors opened off it. Jim moved to the rightmost and discovered stairs descending into darkness. Artie, checking the middle one, saw that it led onwards into the main floor. Both men were about to continue on through their respective doors when they heard it: the sound of a baby crying!

"Peaches!" Artemus exclaimed. The pitiful wails were coming from the final door. He charged for it and raced up the stairs beyond, Jim right on his heels.

They emerged into a hallway that ran the length of the house from back to front with three doors along either side. The sound seemed to be coming from the farthest room to the left.

Looking around warily, Artie murmured, "It's likely a trap."

Jim nodded. "You go on and find Suzie. I'll check the rest of these rooms in case someone's waiting to get the jump on us."

"Right." Cautiously Artie moved down the hall, listened at the door for a moment, then burst inside.

…

Three figures, one of them carrying a basket, emerged from the basement stairs and crossed through the kitchen, then departed by way of the back door, locking it behind them.

…

Jim finished checking all five rooms, finding no one. He now stepped into the final room. "Artie?"

His partner was kneeling alongside a mahogany chest at the foot of a lace-curtained four-poster bed in the middle of a well-appointed bedroom. "This is where the crying's coming from, Jim!" Artie growled with exasperation. "They locked her in a _trunk_ of all things!"

Jim dropped to one knee at his side. "Are you having trouble picking it?"

"Only that I'm having to do so the old-fashioned way. Can't burn through it or use anything explosiv… There!" He grinned, tucked the lock pick away in a pocket, then threw the lid open grandly. "Here we go, Peaches! You're safe now. Daddy's… here…"

Artie's words trailed off as he stared down into the trunk, then raised his eyes to stare at Jim. His own face a stoic mask that usually meant somebody was in for a world of hurt, Jim reached into the trunk and lifted the needle off the spinning cylinder, then clicked the switch off.

"A gramophone," Artie seethed. "A _gramophone!"_ Giving vent to a few choice epithets concerning the marital status of Dr Faustina's forebears — to the fourth generation, no less — he snatched up the deceptive machine and hurled it down into the trunk again, smashing it.

"We'll find her," Jim vowed gravely. "Come on." He rose to his feet and strode from the room.

"_Which_ her, though?" Artie muttered through his teeth. "Peaches or Faustina?"

Jim turned him a moment's glance. "Both."

…

The cabbie, along with his horse, was snatching forty winks. Within the carriage, on the other hand, Lily was all too wakeful, watching the back door of the townhouse vigilantly. Oh! And the door opened, the light within it shining through as — she squinted to see better — yes, as three figures stepped outside. Jim and Artie escorting that abominable quack, Lily hoped. She watched as the trio came closer, walking, so it seemed, straight toward the carriage in which Lily sat.

And then they passed the carriage, and Lily saw that without a doubt none of them were either Jim or Artie. One was a tall man with a pronounced limp, the second willowy and bearing a basket, while the third was enveloped in a cloak with its deep hood drawn up, completely obscuring that person's form and features.

Not that Lily cared about the third figure; it was the second that drew her attention. That was Dr Faustina! As Lily watched, the woman paused to smile down into the basket on her arm. "Here we go, little one," Lily heard the woman say. "Say 'Good-bye' to all that you've known before. You're _my_ little girl now."

Lily's mouth dropped open. "Suzie!" she exclaimed. A moment later the carriage lurched as she sprang out and ran toward the evil doctor. "Give me my daughter back!" she cried.

…

The agents found nothing of interest on the main floor of the house, save for the small room behind the two-way mirror that looked out on the foyer. Now they headed downstairs, moving silently, cautiously.

The stairs led straight to a door, no hallway, nowhere else to go. Jim tried the door. "Locked," he murmured. With a nod to Artie, Jim stepped back a pace and kicked his foot right through the latch plate.

"And now it isn't," Artie commented. The pair flattened themselves on either side of the undeniably opened door for a moment. When there was neither sound nor movement from within, they entered.

"Oh, yes. This is the place," said Artie. "The quintessential epitome of a mad scientist's lair." He glanced around at the hodgepodge of equipment.

"I recognize some of this," said Jim.

"Yeah, me too." He waved a hand at the tall structure with a myriad of wires slanted this way and that around it, giving it a vague resemblance to an hourglass. "I remember us breaking most of the originals when we were fighting my _doppelgänger_ back in New Orleans."

"The spinning dials," said Jim, "and this rainbow of upright rods that lit up in sequence."

"The lightning rod seems to be missing though," said Artie. "Oh, and this is new!" He considered a pair of very large machines taking up an entire wall of the lab, a multitude of thick insulated wires snaking out from them to connect with everything electrical in the room.

Suddenly Artie snapped his fingers. "Of course!" he beamed. "I know what these are; they're Faraday dynamos. And a brilliant idea too! This way she can generate the electrical power she needs without having to wait for a convenient thunderstorm. Because, after all, you can't depend on having a lightning storm turn up just every time you want one."

Jim looked around again. "No one's here," he said.

"Yeah, I noticed. In particular, no Peaches." Artie thumped at his nose, then pointed at a heavy wooden door. "What's that, though?"

"Let's find out." The two agents crossed to the massive door, listened at it, then lifted the latch and yanked it open.

A wave of frosty mist spilled forth, obscuring the view within. The men squinted, trying to peer through the chilly haze. Gradually the air cleared.

And then both agents stared in consternation. "Mrs Richmond!"

**End of Act Two**


	8. Act Three, Part One

**Act Three, Part One**

Mrs Richmond stood before them shivering from the cold. But what was the colonel's wife doing here?

"Come on," said Artie, stepping forward to wrap an arm around her and lead her from the chilly room. "Let's get you out of there before you catch your death of the cold." Jim went into the room as Artie came out, and as the two passed close by each other in the doorway, the half-frozen woman's hand reached for the cuff of her other wrist. But then Artie steered her to a gurney in the middle of the room, leaving Jim behind, and so the woman desisted.

Artie smiled at her comfortingly and chafed at her hands. "Why, your fingers are like so many icicles, Mrs Richmond!" Then his smile faded. She looked so blank! "But don't you recognize me, Mrs Richmond? I'm Mr Gordon." He nodded toward the cold room. "And that's Mr West in there. Remember us? We work for your husband."

"G-gordon," she repeated dully, chattering a bit. "West."

"Yes, that's right! My, the chill must have really gotten to you! It's a good thing we found you and got you out of there. But what are you doing here? We just saw you, what, a couple of hours ago back at your…" His voice trailed off, a puzzled look settling on his face, as the scene of Col Richmond informing them that Lily and the baby were missing flooded Artie's memory. He pictured clearly the colonel's wife sitting on the sofa in the hotel lobby, dabbing at her eyes. And now she was _here?_ How had that come about?

"Did Dr Faustina kidnap you, Mrs Richmond?" he asked, just barely keeping the fury that was flooding through him out of his voice.

"D-doctor Faustina?" the woman echoed.

"Yes, this is her lab. How did you get here?"

"I…" she quavered. Her eyes flicked to something behind Artie, and he looked around.

Ah, here was Jim crossing from the cold room with a folded cloth over his arm. "There's nobody else in there," he said. "Only another one of these gurneys. It had this sheet on it, so I brought it out to put it over Mrs Richmond." He glanced at the wheeled table she was sitting on and saw another sheet. "Mm. This one will be better though, since it's not cold." Jim dropped the sheet from the cold room and unfurled the other sheet, then draped it around Mrs Richmond's shoulders. "There. That should help you warm up."

The woman eyed the two men standing side by side well within five feet of her, and her hand dropped toward the cuff of her left sleeve again.

But now the one who had said he was Mr Gordon stepped away. Mrs Richmond's hand froze in place as she watched him head over to one of the lab counters. "Be nice if there was some tea or coffee here in the lab," he called back to her. "That would warm you up in a hurry." He went to a cabinet and rummaged through the contents.

"How did you wind up here, Mrs Richmond?" the man who was still with her inquired. "Does the colonel know you're here?"

"I… I don't know," she replied. "I don't remember, Mr…" What had the other one called him? "Mr… West."

Jim's eyes sharpened as he took a good look at her. He'd never known Millicent Richmond to act so confused, nor her voice to be so lifeless and dull. He snugged the sheet more closely around her and said, "I'm going to help Artemus look for the coffee. You wait here."

By now Artie was hunkered down before one of the lab counters searching a storage area beneath it. He glanced up as Jim dropped to one knee at his side.

"Something's wrong, Artie," Jim said softly.

"I was thinking the same thing," Artie replied just as softly. He glanced back at the woman who was still sitting on the gurney where they'd left her. "Could just be that she's confused from the cold."

"Could be," Jim nodded. "Faustina had to work very quickly to be able to abduct her and bring her here so fast. It wasn't two hours ago that we saw Mrs Richmond at the hotel."

"Right. And it's not impossible that Madame Frankenstein drugged the poor lady to get her here. That could be muddling her mind as well."

"And affecting her speech," added Jim. "But the thing is, where is Col Richmond? Did Faustina kidnap him as well? And if she did, what did she do with… Artie!"

Artemus swung around at the urgency in his partner's voice to see Mrs Richmond creeping quietly towards them not more than five feet away. Her right hand was fumbling at the cuff of her left sleeve. What could she be doing, Artie began to wonder.

Jim didn't waste time wondering. He surged up from the floor, grabbed the woman's right wrist, and twisted it behind her. Struggling to keep her immobilized, he seized up her left arm and held it out from her body. "What is this? What are you trying to do?" he demanded.

Artie was on his feet now and caught Mrs Richmond's left hand, then ripped her sleeve open. "She's got something strapped here on her wrist, Jim! There's a button on it, and wires leading…" He shuddered. "Leading up under her skin!"

The agents' eyes met. "She's one of Faustina's walking bombs."

"You… are… both within… five feet of me," the woman grunted. "I… must… press…"

Abruptly she wrenched her left arm from Artie's grasp, then whirled and threw Jim over her shoulder. Both hands now free, she scrabbled for the button on the strap around her wrist, then glanced up to see whether the men were close enough.

Artie was, both hands stretched out towards her as he said soothingly, "Now, now. You don't want to do that. Just put your hands up, Mrs… er… Whoever-you-are. Up, and spread well apart, that is."

She took a step closer to him even as he took a step back. Where was the other one though? She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced in the direction of the gurney on which she had been sitting.

Suddenly West popped up from behind the gurney. Shoving the wheeled table ahead of him like a battering ram, he raced towards her. The leading edge of the table slammed into the fake Mrs Richmond, sending her sprawling through the open door behind her and into the chill of the cold room again.

Jim leapt for the door, Artie on his heels. Together they flung the door closed and secured the latch.

"I think we're done here, Artie."

"I think so too." With a nod toward the cold room door, Artie added, "I hope our fair hostess will forgive us for taking French leave, but, uh… Let's get out of here!"

They charged for the stairs.

…

Within the cold room the walking bomb stood to her feet. The gurney that had thrust her into the room stood between her and the door, and she swatted it away, sending it clattering into a wall. She stalked to the door and tried the latch.

Locked. She lifted her right hand and slammed the whole length of her forearm against the door, trying to get free, determined to follow through on Dr Faustina's orders and reach the two men. The door shuddered but held firm.

Again she slammed her right arm against the door, but again the door only jounced without opening. And now she lifted her left hand as well to slam both forearms against the door. There was a small _click _as the button on her left wrist came into contact with the door, followed immediately by

_FOOM!_

The door was open now. Indeed, there was nothing left of the door, nor of much of the lab beyond it.

But then there was now nothing left of the woman who wasn't Mrs Richmond either.

…

Two men spilled from the back door of the townhouse and went charging down the stairs. They were nearly to the ground when a muffled roar from within shook the whole house, sending them tumbling.

"So much for the fake Mrs Richmond," said Jim, bounding right back up to his feet.

"Yeah," said Artie as he clambered up as well, then knocked the dust from his clothes. "But what I wanna know," he added with a growl, "is who locked that door? I thought we'd never get out of that kitchen!"

"Had to have been Faustina."

Artie stopped slapping at his pants. "Then you think they were still in the house when we got here? We just missed them?" He didn't wait for Jim's answer but went racing down the alley for their carriage. "Maybe we can catch up!"

Just short of the carriage, however, both men froze in their tracks at the sight of a body lying on the ground. The cabbie!

His mouth agape, Artie turned a look of horror Jim's way, then dashed on to the carriage. "Lily!" he cried. _"Lily!"_

But there was no answer.

Jim checked the cabbie's pulse, then rolled him over and helped him sit up. The man groaned and cradled his throbbing noggin in his hands. "Oh, my _head!"_

"What happened?" Jim was asking just as Artie trotted back over. "She's gone!" he exclaimed. "There's no sign of Lily. Where'd she go?"

The cabbie looked up at him, then winced and dropped his head again, obviously wished he hadn't moved that much.

Artie hunkered down beside the man and urgently peppered him with his questions again.

The cabbie closed his eyes. "They took her," he said.

"_Who_ took her?"

"Some people; I don't know who they were. They came out of the house you went into. One of them, a lady, had a basket and was talking to it. Then your lady — Lily, was it? — she started hollering and jumped from the cab, yelling for the other woman to give her back her baby. She grabbed for the basket." He paused, catching his breath.

"And they took her?"

He nodded, then winced again. "Yes sir. One of them was a big guy with a limp. He grabbed her and stuffed her into another carriage. It was parked right down there, behind some bushes. I didn't even notice it until he was putting her into it. She was yelling something fierce, you know?

"So I jumped down from my cab to go help her. Only…" He touched his head gingerly. "…I guess I wasn't much help. Big guy knocked me right out. Holy Moses, but he packed a punch! Wouldn't be surprised if he had a horseshoe hidden inside that glove of his!"

The agents exchanged a glance. "Any idea where they went?"

"Sorry, no. I wasn't noticing anything by then." He pawed at himself, then added, "Well, they didn't run me over, so I guess they went that way." He pointed toward the far end of the alley.

"Come on," said Jim. He and Artie pulled the man to his feet and loaded him inside his own carriage.

"Hey, what're you doing?" yelped the cabbie as Jim vaulted into the outside seat.

Artie settled into the interior opposite the cabbie. "What, do you feel up to driving?"

"Uh… no."

"Then Jim will. Dropping our esteemed cabbie off at the hospital?"

Jim nodded and shook out the reins.

"And after that," Artie muttered to himself, "we'll go get a little help from the one, er, _person_ who might just be able to sift out our two needles from this haystack called San Francisco — my TARDIS Rosalind."

…

"Give me my daughter, you inhuman fiend!" said Lily, and not for the first time either, as the carriage barreled along through the night.

Dr Faustina, holding upon her lap the basket in which the infant lay fussing, turned and regarded the angry woman dispassionately. "She is no longer _your_ daughter but mine," she informed Lily.

"Yours!" Lily fumed. "She most certainly is not!"

Faustina laughed. "You are hardly in a position, my dear Mrs Gordon, to make any demands of me. The child is mine, and I shall rear her to be the very image of me. However," she added as the baby cut loose with a particularly insistent howl, "as recent events have proven to me the value of hiring a wet nurse, you may serve me as such." She held forth the basket.

"Wet nurse! I am not a we…!" Lily started heatedly, then realized she was getting what she wanted, if in a limited fashion. Quickly, before Faustina could change her mind, Lily caught the baby up in her arms. "Oh, you poor darling!" she crooned and tucked her daughter close to feed her. Suzie, finding herself at last in her favorite place of all, settled down and began to nurse.

"Finally!" exclaimed Faustina. "Our ears are no longer assaulted by her screams."

"Suzie's a smart little girl," Lily riposted, "and knows who her own Mama is!"

"Hmph. Well, that will change, that will change. She won't need a wet nurse forever. And in the meantime, you are not to call her Suzie! She has a new name now, a far more suitable name." With a small smile upon her face, Dr Faustina proclaimed, "Her name is now… Scientia."

"Ski what?" Lily scoffed. "Scientia? That's not a proper name for a child! Everyone will make fun of her."

"Oh, and a plebeian name such as Suzie is an improvement?" Faustina waved a hand in dismissal. "I've no doubt but every third girl in America is named Suzie. A dime a dozen, as the saying goes! Scientia, on the other hand, is unique, and a name to live up to!"

Lily's lips set into a firm line. "Suzie isn't _that_ common a name, and is a perfectly lovely one. In addition to which, it means 'lily' — she was named for me." She cuddled the baby close and peered into her face. There had to be some way to get out of here, now that she had Suzie in her arms again!

"By the way," Lily asked at length, trying to keep her voice as nonchalant as possible, "where are we going?"

Dr Faustina lifted her chin and announced, "Our mission here in San Francisco is now completed. We lured your husband and his partner here, and now we have disposed of them."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Disposed…"

"Oh yes. It took us two tries, but after they met what was waiting for them in the basement lab, I've no doubt but they've… What is it you actors say? Shuffled off this mortal coil?" She smirked as horror filled Lily's eyes.

"What did you do?" whispered Lily.

Now a proud smile suffused Faustina's face. "Left them a little going-away present in the form of your Mrs Richmond, with orders to press a small button once the men were quite near her."

"Mrs Richmond!"

"Oh, not the real one, but one of my, ah, patients bearing Mrs Richmond's features, and with a fine little bomb within her chest. They'll never have survived the blast," she proclaimed.

But then her eyes narrowed as she saw Lily smile. "You know something," she accused.

"Do I?" Lily countered.

Faustina's face hardened. "You and those accursed agents survived the bomb that I secreted within the baby doll, and now you presume that they have survived my latest bomb as well. But how?"

Now it was Lily who lifted her head proudly. "Jim spotted your deception, and he and Artemus raced me from the train. And to protect us all, they used one of my husband's inventions: a blast cloak."

"A… a what?"

"A blast cloak," Lily repeated. "It's something Artemus made a while back to protect him and Jim from bombs. Once they knew this case involved a mad bomber…" and she raked the doctor with a caustic glance, "…no doubt they made sure to carry the blast cloaks with them."

Faustina leaned forward, her eyes glittering with keen interest. "And how, pray tell, does such a thing as a blast cloak work?"

Lily laughed. "Oh, I'm sure _I_ don't know! Artie makes all sorts of things, but I never know how they work."

"No?" said Faustina. Abruptly she snatched the baby from Lily's arms and held the squirming infant where Lily couldn't reach her. "You will tell me how the blast cloaks work, and you will tell me at once!"

In the hands of the evil mad scientist who wanted to give her a preposterous name, little Suzie instantly began to protest at the top of her healthy young lungs.


	9. Act Three, Part Two

**Act Three, Part Two**

The cab drew up in the railroad yards, having made a brief stop to drop the cabbie off at the hospital with a promise to return his cab in the near future. Jim hopped down from the driver's seat while Artie emerged from the inside.

And for a moment the two men simply stood and regarded the wreckage of their home.

"What a mess!" said Artie at length.

"Well, when all this is over, I'm sure Washington will supply us with a new varnish car."

"Yeah, I know, Jim. It's just… We had so many gadgets and secret compartments in there! The disguises, the weapons, the…" A look of horror crossed his face. "Oh no. Oh _no_. Jim, the pigeons! Henrietta… Arabella…" Tears rimmed Artie's eyes.

Jim sighed, looking at the destruction. "Maybe… maybe they got away," he said at last.

"From their cages? How?" A look of fury settled on Artie's face again. "That blasted woman! She just keeps taking and taking and taking! Well, we'll fix her but good!" He headed for the baggage car. The end of it nearest the remains of the varnish car was pitted from the explosion and blackened from the fire, but the car itself was in one piece. Mostly.

Artie unlocked the door and stepped inside, automatically turning to his left with a hearty "Hello, Rosalind! We've got a job for… you?"

He whirled and gaped at Jim behind him, and for good reason. There in the corner where the TARDIS normally stood in its usual form of a tall brown cabinet — there was now nothing. No, not a blessed thing. The TARDIS was gone. Gone! Artie stared at the corner, seeing his chances of finding Lily and Peaches vanish as well.

"Perhaps she's disguised herself," said Jim. He stepped forward and checked the corner, hoping that perhaps Rosalind's Chameleon Circuit had merely made her appear invisible. But no, there was nothing there; that corner was absolutely empty.

He turned to Artie. "No one could have stolen her, could they?" When it came to matters of Gallifreyan technology, Artie was the expert.

"Stolen? No, no. I… Oh!" His eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers. "I know what this is, Jim! Well, I _think_ I know what happened. I must have activated the HADS system by mistake."

"HADS system," Jim repeated and waited for Artie to explain.

"Yeah, it's, um, it's a method of protecting a TARDIS from attack. Hostile Action Displacement System — which means I shouldn't have said 'HADS _system_.' That's redundant."

"It certainly is," Jim agreed. "But what does the HADS do?"

"Well, if a TARDIS comes under attack — and the varnish car blowing up next door no doubt felt like an attack — the TARDIS will dematerialize and reappear somewhere else." He rubbed at the back of his neck and added, "On occasion, some_when_ else."

Jim cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, that's helpful! You couldn't have turned the HADS off?"

"That's just it, Jim; I thought I had! Except…"

"Except that TARDISes have minds of their own, so Rosalind might have activated the HADS for herself?"

Artie grinned ruefully. "Yeah, something like that. Fortunately there's this little device called a Stattenheim remote control. Not sure how a Gallifreyan invention came to have such a German-sounding name," he mused, patting his pockets.

Jim folded his arms. "And what does the Stattenheim do?"

"Hmm? Oh, it's a recall device. Activate it, give a whistle, and hey, presto! Back comes your TARDIS!"

"Sounds rather more useful than the HADS at least," Jim commented. And as Artie continued patting his pockets, he added, "You, ah… do know where this Stattenheim remote control is, don't you, Artie?"

Artie opened his mouth, then closed it again as an odd look spread over his face. "Come to think of it, Jim, I know exactly where it is. I, ah… was standing in my bedroom when I took it out of my pocket the other night and set it down on top of my dresser."

Jim sighed. First he looked at Artie, then he turned to gaze at the wall of the baggage car beyond which lay the ruins of the varnish car. "Your bedroom," he echoed.

"Oh no, not _that_ bedroom, Jim. My bedroom in the TARDIS!"

For a long moment Jim just fixed his partner with a look. Then, "I see. So you left the recall device for the TARDIS — _inside_ the TARDIS."

"Mm. Well, yeah, that's true. But look on the bright side, Jim: at least the Stattenheim isn't destroyed!"

…

Lily glared at the mad scientist who had snatched baby Suzie from her arms. "I already told you, you beast! I haven't the least notion how the blast cloaks work. Artemus is the inventor, not I!"

"Then you will tell me where he is. Now, this very minute."

"But…" Lily gave a small moan. "How am I supposed to know where he is? According to you, he's buried under rubble back at that stolen townhouse."

"Ah, but according to _you_, the men have blast cloaks with which to protect themselves. Therefore I demand to know where he is now!"

"But…" Lily said again, only to find she had no words to follow it.

Faustina gave the baby a shake. "I mean business, Mrs Gordon. The men no doubt used those blast cloaks to survive the fury of my bomb. They then emerged from the ruined lab to find you missing and the man who was with you unconscious. Where would they go then? Tell me!"

_Home_ was the first word that popped into Lily's mind, but of course that was the wrong answer. Faustina had blown up the Wanderer, or at least the living quarters of the train, so why would Jim and Artemus go there? "I…" said Lily, trying to think of something to say. "Well, I suppose they would go to Col Richmond to report on what had happened, particularly since you made a walking bomb in the likeness of his wife. So they would go to him at the, ah, the Frémont Hotel where he's staying. Well, either that or to his office in the Federal building."

A smile crossed Faustina's face, a smile that was utterly chilling. "Mrs Gordon," she said, "I don't think you're taking this seriously. I don't think you're taking _me_ seriously. I want a real answer from you, and I want it now. Or else…" Grasping the baby by one chubby forearm, the mad doctor thrust the child out the open window of the carriage to dangle her over the cobblestones.

"What? Suzie!" cried Lily. "I've already answered your questions, you monster! The only other place I can think of for them to go to is our train, but there's no point in doing that, since you already blew it up! Give me…" Lily stretched out her arms imploringly, then rose from her seat.

With her free hand, Faustina shoved the woman back into her place. "You must take me for a fool, Mrs Gordon, to give me such inadequate answers. Now, I will ask you just one more time, and if you do not tell me what I wish to know, I shall… Oh!"

For in that second the carriage ran over a bump in the road. And Dr Faustina lost her grip.


	10. Act Three, Part Three

**Act Three, Part Three**

"Are you sure this will work?" asked Jim.

"Ought to," replied Artie, busily cobbling something together at his small lab table in the baggage car. "Using these in tandem should increase the range either of them would have by itself." He continued working, tucking the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he did so.

Jim folded his arms and leaned against the table, watching. "You realize what's going on here," he said.

"You mean, what Faustina's up to?"

"Yes. The change in her _modus operandi_. The previous time we ran up against her, she made a replica of me with a bomb in his chest and sent him out to blow up a group of the president's cabinet members, all to send a message to the president, insisting he fund her macabre, pseudoscientific projects."

Artie nodded. "Mm-hmm. And when he sent her a letter of refusal — I was there when she read the letter; the old general was his usual blunt self, even questioning her sanity — she then told me I was going to help her kill the president. Locked me up, made that bomb-boy replica of me, and sent him out with the task of blowing up the president at the New Orleans federal building."

"But we foiled her. Took care of the threat to the president."

"And would have locked her up too, except by the time we could return to her spooky ol' mansion…"

"Yeah," said Jim. "They'd absconded, she and her assistant Miklos, and made off for parts unknown."

"Said unknown parts turning out to be right here in San Francisc — ow!"

"You all right, Artie?"

"Yeah. Just nicked my finger, that's all." He slid open a drawer, took out a roll of gauze, and wound some of it around his finger. "But now that they're here, back in their old business of reanimating dead bodies with bombs tucked inside, instead of targeting federal buildings or government officials…"

"With the proviso that she's been sticking the faces of the mayor and such on her walking bombs," Jim put in.

"Yes, and Emperor Norton to boot! But she wasn't targeting anyone or anything. The bombs just marched themselves out into the bay and _BOOM!"_

"Right. Nobody targeted, nobody blown up — until we arrive."

"Yeah, and so far she's made two attempts to turn us into mincemeat in a single night!"

Jim caught his partner's eye. "So what would you say she's up to, Artie?"

He gave a small shrug. "Oh, the usual. Revenge for having thwarted her. Removing us out of her way so that she can… you know…" Again he shrugged.

"Go back to business as usual?"

"Something like that, yes. She didn't send the president any demand letters this time, but she could be saving that for when she thinks she's got a clear field again, having, ah, _taken care_ of us."

"Sounds about right," said Jim.

"And… there!" said Artie.

"Finished?" Jim looked at the device Artie had been working on. It was familiar in a way, as it was made of their two sonic screwdrivers, Jim's and Artie's, linked together end to end. "And it will work?" he added.

"You keep asking that, oh ye of little faith! Yes, it will work. I would have preferred to have my TARDIS do the search, since obviously she would have been able to scan the entirety of San Francisco — not to mention, California and beyond — to locate the tracker button on Peaches' clothing. But with Rosalind missing, I have to go with the sonic instead — except that one sonic screwdriver hasn't enough range to check the whole city."

"And the two together should double that range," said Jim.

"Even better. You see this?" Artie pointed at the doohickey right in the middle, linking the ends of the sonics together.

Jim peered at it. "Looks like part of one of your Bunsen burners."

"In a former life, yes. But I've worked some of the ol' Gordon magic on it, and now it's an amplifier. Instead of merely doubling the range, it should magnify the range exponentially to increase the sonics' scanning capacity."

"Exponentially, huh?"

Artie beamed and nodded.

"So instead of one sonic plus one sonic, we have one sonic _times_ one sonic?"

"Essentially, yes."

"Well, that's interesting, Artie. Because one plus one is two, but one _times_ one…" Jim eyed his partner, perfectly deadpan. "…is still one."

There was a beat of silence, then Artie shot him a ferocious glare. Grumbling under his breath, he tore the two sonics apart and started over.

…

"Suzie!" Lily screamed as the baby disappeared. With all her might the young mother smashed a fist into Dr Faustina's face. She then scrambled at the handle of the carriage door, and once it swung open, she flung herself from the moving carriage to land awkwardly on the cobblestones.

Miklos instantly reined up, and started to jump down from the carriage himself.

"No, no!" called Faustina, applying a handkerchief to the split in her lip. "Leave her! She is of no further use to us. We must hurry. She believes the agents will return to their train. Take us there at once!" And as Miklos clambered back up to his seat and took up the reins, Faustina turned to the silent cloaked figure sitting in the carriage with her and said, "Listen carefully and do precisely what I tell you. I must acquire one of those blast cloaks! Therefore when we arrive at the railroad yards, I will want you to…"

…

"Ok, _now_ it should work!"

Jim eyed the new improved double sonic screwdriver, linked side by side this time with a spaghetti-like tangle of wires running through the burner barrel between them. "You're sure about that?"

Artie gave a sigh. "All right, no, I'm not. But we've got to find Suzie, so…" He flicked the contraption on.

Whether or not the range of the two linked sonics would be magnified exponentially might be debatable, but the electronic whine of the device was certainly a magnitude greater than usual. Both men winced, and Jim covered his ears. Artie, with the device in his right hand, could only cover his left ear as he slowly pivoted in a full circle.

Once that was done, he mercifully turned the thing back off again. "Ok, let's have a look." Both men leaned over the device, checking the readout.

Jim frowned. "Why does it say that?" he asked.

Artie's face turned pale. "Not found! How could Peaches be not found?" He gave the jury-rigged contraption a whack with his hand, then made the scan again.

As soon as the sound was over with once more, both Jim and Artie took another look. "Artie, it still says 'Not found.' "

"I know," Artie grumped.

"But what's that supposed to mean?" Jim persisted.

With an impatient sigh, Artie said, "Well, it's not impossible, I guess, that Dr Faustina somehow figured out that the button on Peaches' dress was a tracking device and got rid of it. Or…"

"Or?"

Scowling, Artie picked up the double sonic and shook it. "Or else this darned thing doesn't work after all and I just wasted all that precious time building it twice. Here!" He yanked the device to pieces again and passed Jim's sonic to him.

Only to have Jim immediately pass it back. "I was about to suggest that if it's not locating Suzie, maybe you should try looking for Rosalind instead."

Artie's jaw sagged. Slowly he blinked, and when that was done, he rolled his eyes before starting to cobble the device back together for the third time.

…

Lily groaned and tried to sit up, finding that after her second nose dive of the evening, she had new bruises on top of the first set of bruises. Worse, her right knee was being completely uncooperative; it felt like it was being stabbed with dozens of red-hot pokers. Unable to sit up, she instead rolled onto her side and looked around.

What? Where was… "Suzie?" she cried. "Suzie!" Oh, where could she be? They surely hadn't traveled very far from the point at which Dr Faustina had dropped the baby, yet Lily could see nothing of her daughter — no, nor of the treacherous bump in the road that has caused the insane doctor to let go of the little girl.

"Suzie! _Suzie!"_ Lily cried, coming close to hysteria.

The sound of rapid footfalls reached her ears, along with the barking of a dog. No, two dogs. An elderly gentleman in an outlandish uniform hurried towards her, outdistanced by a pair of dogs. "Oh, our dear woman!" exclaimed the man. "Are you all right?" Gently he tried to lift her to her feet, and when she immediately collapsed again with a cry of pain, he pressed his walking stick into her hand. "Come, our dear. There's a wrought-iron bench by the side of the road only a few yards from here. Lean on us and on the cane, and we shall get you there."

"My, my daughter," Lily gasped.

"Daughter?" The old man looked around. "Where is she?"

"I don't _know!"_ Lily wailed. "That horrible Faustina dropped her from the moving carriage, so I jumped out after her, but I can't _find_ her!"

"Moving…!" The man clamped his mouth shut. If the woman herself had been injured from a leap from such a carriage, how much more so would be a child? Still… "Bummer! Lazarus! Come here, our lads!"

The two dogs hurried to the old man, whimpering with excitement.

"There's a little girl somewhere around here, a lost little girl. Nose about, both of you, and find her," he ordered. And as he aided the woman to reach the bench, his dogs darted about in mad circles, then took off running.

"I'm sure the lads will find her, our dear," he said comfortingly.

"Thank you, sir."

He patted her hand and smiled. "It's 'Your Imperial Majesty,' to be precise," he corrected amiably.

Lily gaped at him for an instant. "You… you're Emperor Norton?"

"First of the name!" he beamed proudly. "Emperor of these United States and Protector of Mexico. And you, our dear?"

"Lily Gordon."

"Charmed to meet you, Mrs Gordon. Ah, here come the lads again!"

The two dogs came racing back, tongues lolling.

"And did you find any signs of the child?" the Emperor asked.

Both dogs barked.

"Hmm. It seems they've come up empty, er, pawed, as it were. Dreadfully sorry, our dear." He frowned, his brow creasing. "Why, Bummer, whatever's wrong?"

The dog nosed at one of the legs of the bench upon which the humans were sitting, and gave an excited whine.

"Bummer? Why, how odd! He seems to think the child is _here!_ And yet… well, as we can both see, there's no sign of a little girl anywhere about this bench. But come to think it…" and his frown deepened, "it's deucedly peculiar, but we traverse this fair city regularly and know every nook and cranny of her streets — and we've never known there to be a bench of any kind at this particular location. _Oh!"_

The last vociferation was precipitated by the fact that the wrought-iron bench _moved_.

The Emperor leapt to his feet, then caught Mrs Gordon by the arm and pulled her away as well. As the dogs ducked behind the old man's legs and peeked out whimpering, the two humans stared in astonishment as the bench… well, changed. It grew, both taller and narrower, the spaces between the wrought-iron scrollwork of which it was made closing up into something solid and opaque. Taller, narrower, deeper as well, until it was the size of a cabinet or wardrobe, with a pair of doors bisecting the side that was facing them.

Norton stared at the transformation in horror, having never seen such a thing happen before in his life. Lily, by contrast, gave a glad cry of recognition.

"Rosalind!"

Quickly Lily reached into her reticule and brought out a latchkey which she then fitted into the lock on the front of the wayward TARDIS. There was a _click_, then the door opened, brilliant light spilling out from within.

Norton's chin hit his chest. "Is… is this the entrance to Paradise?" he breathed. For within the tall cabinet was a vast chamber, much larger than the outside, brightly lit by some means that involved neither candles nor gaslight. In pride of place at the center back, just in front of another set of doors, was a six-sided table of some kind, covered over with dials and switches of all descriptions, and with an immensely tall glass column rising from its center all the way up to the impossibly high ceiling. Off to the left were a number of glass-doored storage cabinets — cabinets within a cabinet, Norton thought, wondering if those cabinets might themselves contain smaller cabinets, and those smaller ones still, like Russian babushka dolls. Over to the right stood a grouping of chairs set upon a Persian carpet, forming a cozy little parlor. And right here in front of the door was yet another riddle within this enigmatic box, for here lay a thick, substantial mattress. Of all things, a feather bed lying directly upon the floor!

And in the middle of the mattress, happily cooing as she played with her own toes…

"Suzie!"

**End of Act Three**


	11. Act Four, Part One

**Act Four, Part One**

For the third time in much less than an hour, Artie finished connecting the two sonic screwdrivers through the makeshift amplifier. "Third time's the charm," he said, and with a glance at Jim added, "I hope."

Once again the baggage car was filled with that excruciating sound for several seconds. Then Artie switched it off and both men bent over the readout.

"Hallelujah!" Artie exclaimed. "At last we don't get a result of 'Not found'!"

"That's along the route we took from Faustina's lair back here to the railroad yards," Jim observed.

"Most direct course, yes."

Jim glanced up at his partner. "So we drove right past her and never noticed?"

"Hmm. She must have been using the Chameleon Circuit. Wonder why she didn't get our attention?"

"On the other hand, we didn't yet know she was missing."

"Well, that's true. But," Artie added happily, disassembling the contraption once more, "now that we do know where to look for her, we can be on our way!"

"And once we get to her, she can help us sort out the previous scan to locate Suzie."

"Wonderful! Let's go!" They abandoned the baggage car and set off to collect their horses.

…

Scooping up a baby was no small task for a woman with an injured knee, but soon mother and daughter were ensconced on a seat by the strange table in the center back of the vast room. Smiling, Mrs Gordon waved toward the parlor area. "Please, have a seat, Mr… that is, your Imperial Majesty."

Still quite stunned with such uncanny surroundings, Emperor Norton walked in slowly, looking now up at the ceiling that seemed half a mile away above his head. Suddenly he switched to looking down at the floor again, and gasped.

"Something wrong?" asked Lily. She was checking over every inch of her daughter, finding to her vast relief that there seemed be nothing whatsoever wrong with her. At least, there was nothing wrong with Suzie's appetite; the baby made that clear at once.

"The mattress!" said Norton. "It's vanished!"

"No longer needed, I suppose," Lily replied, settling the baby in to nurse. Once Suzie was happily and hungrily filling her tummy, Lily set about typing onehandedly upon the typewriter on the console. "Rosalind, why are you here?" she asked. "And what happened?"

Norton made his slow and marveling way over to the parlor and took a seat in the finest chair of the group. Whining a bit, the two dogs crept inside as well to crouch furtively by the emperor's feet.

"Hmm, I shouldn't leave the door open," Lily murmured to herself. She reached for the lever on the console and pulled it, closing the door. Then she leaned forward to read Rosalind's reply to her queries, which was blinking there upon the monitor screen.

"HADS?" Lily typed a request for more information.

She received back a great deal more than she'd really wanted, but she diligently read it all anyway.

At length she finished and typed, "So in essence, the explosion startled you and triggered a flight response, and you found yourself here."

"YES," the TARDIS replied. "WHERE I IN FACT SOON FOUND MYSELF NEEDED."

"Needed?" Lily tipped her head. "What do you mean?"

"I SAW A CARRIAGE COMING ALONG THE STREET WITH PEACHES BEING DANGLED OUT THE WINDOW. THAT IS NO WAY TO TREAT AN INFANT! THEREFORE I CREATED A BUMP IN THE ROAD TO RESCUE OUR LITTLE GIRL."

"Rescue! You mean that was _you? You_ made Faustina drop Suzie? But she could have been killed!"

"INDEED NOT. I HAD PREPARED THE MATTRESS AND CAUGHT PEACHES SAFELY. SHE WAS NEVER IN ANY DANGER — EXCEPT FROM THE EVIL FAUSTINA."

Suzie reached up and patted her mother's face. Lily, remembering that Artie could read her thoughts by touch and that he suspected the baby could do the same, quelled her anxieties and smiled down at her darling girl. "No. No, of course not. Suzie was never in any danger, and she's perfectly safe now."

…

The stable boy at the livery had been very unhappy to be awakened in the middle of the night to permit the two agents to retrieve their horses. The large tip they gave him mitigated his grouchy mood somewhat. Soon the men had their horses saddled and were riding along through the quiet streets. There were, of course, areas of San Francisco which never slept, but this was not one of them. And as the riders hurried through this sleepier part of town, they were passed by a carriage going the opposite way.

"Hey!" called Artie. "Did that driver look familiar to you?"

"He certainly did."

Both men reined up, then set off again, following the carriage.

…

"Ah…" came a voice from the parlor, "excuse us, Mrs Gordon, but did you not just speak of a woman named Faustina?"

"Yes, I did, your Imperial Majesty."

"Curious. You mentioned her before as well, characterizing her as 'horrible' as we recall. And you say it was Faustina who dropped your child from the carriage?"

Cold fury swept through Lily, and she strove to stem it lest Suzie become upset. "She certainly did!" she said.

"But we can hardly believe that! She seemed like such a fine woman!"

Lily gaped at him. "You _know_ Dr Faustina?"

"Oh, _doctor!_ Well then, perhaps not. The Faustina we met is an artist. She intends to open a wax museum here in this fairest of all cities, and wanted to make a life mask of our Imperial visage from which to create a wax replica of Norton I for her museum, you see. On the other hand," he mused, "such a deucedly uncommon name, Faustina…"

Lily's lips set into a firm line. "Oh, it's the same woman, all right. She used the life mask to create a walking, _breathing_ replica of you. She put your face on a dead man, brought him back to life, then sent him out to be the fake Emperor who blew himself up in the bay!"

"_What?"_ Norton sprang to his feet in outrage. "That… that… Why, that snake in the grass! We trusted her! We… We…" His hands clutched at the air and he looked around, puzzled. "Why, what have we done with our walking stick? Oh, that's right: we loaned it to you, our dear. Ah, but if we only had it in hand just now, we should strike the end of it upon the floor, we are so angry! Such perfidy merits the most strenuous punishment! We shall write an imperial decree at once!"

"Let's do even better," said Lily. Her free hand flew over the controls of the TARDIS console. "Let's go find Dr Faustina and give her a piece of both our minds."

She grasped the flight lever and engaged it, watching with pleasure the startled look on the emperor's face as, with a tremendous noise of wheezing and groaning, the time rotor began to rise and fall.

…

The two riders quickly rounded the next corner, only to find the carriage was stopped sidelong in the road before them, blocking their way.

"Yep," Artie muttered to Jim, "I _thought_ that driver looked familiar."

"But where is he?" Jim returned. And his spirited black horse, never one to stand still when his owner was on his back, was prancing sideways now, his head bobbing up and down.

"Blackjack knows," Artie observed. He started to turn in his saddle.

_WHAM!_ A body launched into him, knocking him off his horse to slam into the ground. A hand that felt like it was made of steel under its black glove rammed into Artie's head, and he was sure he felt his brain slosh around within his skull.

A moment later another body joined the fray as Jim leapt from his horse. He hurled himself into Miklos and rolled with him, pulling him off Artie. The two combatants went crashing into a wrought-iron fence along the side of the road, each man seeking to get an advantage over the other. Jim came out on top and started to rain blows upon his larger opponent. But Miklos reached up with that gloved hand of his and fastened his fingers around Jim's throat.

Artie, with spots dancing before his eyes, groaned and tried to sit up. He gave his head a good sling to clear his vision, only to promptly conclude that _that_ had been the bad idea of the day — if not the century. When the fresh spate of spangles at last died away, he moved his head slowly to look around.

Jim!

The mad doctor's minion, though lying on his back, had his glove-clad hand wrapped around Jim's throat. With both hands Jim was struggling to break the big man's grasp, and when that didn't work, he smacked both palms sharply over his opponent's ears.

Miklos gasped and lost his grip. Jim, breathing heavily, flung himself out of the big fellow's reach. "You… ok, Artie?" he rasped out to his partner.

"I'll live," Artie replied.

"You are sure about that?" came a new voice. Both agents whirled, with varying degrees of regret over moving so rapidly, to see a figure in a familiar long red dress standing by the carriage.

"Ah," said Artie, still cradling his head in one hand, "Dr Faustina. So we meet at last."

The figure did not move, but her voice carried clearly to the agents. "At last. Yes. Although I have not until this moment wished a meeting with you."

"No," said Jim. "You just wanted to blow us up."

They heard the mad doctor's chuckle. "Indeed, that has been my goal ever since the pair of you forced upon Miklos and me our precipitous departure from New Orleans. We have been vagabonds ever since, forced to live from hand to mouth until we at last arrived here in San Francisco. Miklos even appeared in a sideshow: the Silent Giant, performing feats of great strength! But through unflagging perseverance we were able to recreate our lab as of old and to embark once more on our experiments."

"Yeah, Frankensteinian experiments," muttered Artie. He looked around — more slowly this time — and took note of Miklos' current location, a few feet away from the agents and slightly behind them. "Look," he said, "can he go stand over by you? I don't want to get whiplash trying to keep both you and him in view at the same time."

Faustina laughed. "Very well. Miklos, come away then. But not here to me! Stand… there." She cocked her head to one side, then slowly lifted her arm to point. "Yes, right there."

Jim and Artie exchanged a glance as the big minion moved to obey. "Now what's her game?" Jim murmured sotto voce as he boosted Artie to his feet.

"No clue. Well, except that something is likely to go _boom_ before this is all over."

"Now," said Dr Faustina, still standing immobile by the carriage, both arms dropped to her sides again and her face half in shadow. "This is what we shall do. You shall give to me those miraculous blast cloaks Mrs Gordon told me of, and in exchange, I shall give you… information."

"Blast cloaks!" exclaimed Artie, as in the same moment Jim, his voice still a bit hoarse, demanded, "_What _information?"

"Oh, just a little matter of the whereabouts of Mr Gordon's wife and daughter." She broke out into a laugh again. "Or what's left of them."

"What?" Artie's eyes flamed with fury. "What have you done to them?"

"Merely an accident, that is all. I was, ah… _encouraging _Mrs Gordon to divulge to me far more knowledge than she was inclined to impart, when our carriage ran over a bump in the road, and out fell the baby."

"_What?" _Artie took a step towards their enemy, only to feel Jim's grip on his arm holding him back.

Faustina chuckled. "Your wife reacted much as you did, I must say, Mr Gordon. She attacked me, then dove out of the carriage after the baby. That is the last we saw of either one of them."

Again Artie tried to lunge at the woman, and again Jim held him back. "So you just left them there in the street," said Jim.

"But of course! We had a pressing engagement — with the two of you." Now the woman moved again, lifting an arm to point at the pair. "Give to me the blast cloaks you invented — both of them! — and in return I shall give to you the exact location at which we last saw your family."

"Jim…"

"She bluffing, Artie. We both know Suzie grows up."

"_And _regenerated at some point! What if this was the point? What if she's lying there in the street, alone." Something occurred to him. "Alone, and with the tracking device broken from the fall!"

"Quickly, gentlemen!" cut in Faustina's voice. "I'll not wait forever." Another laugh. "Nor will your wife and child."

"We could just go get them," said Jim. "We don't need your directions."

"No? In such a sprawling town as San Francisco has become? Besides, if you attempt to leave, my dear Miklos will simply shoot you."

Shoot… Sure enough, when the agents glanced at the big mute, they saw that he was grinning, with a fine little derringer in his ungloved hand.

"Not nearly so satisfying," Faustina went on, "as blowing you to bits with one of our excellent little bombs. But you will be just as dead. And then we shall simply search you and take the blast cloaks from your bodies."

"Ruined, with bullet holes through them," Jim pointed out.

"Then be sensible," said Faustina, "and hand them over instead. Hand them over, and live."

"It does sound like a better deal, Jim," said Artie. "After all, if we're dead, we won't be around to see the good doctor there swing for her crimes."

"Swing? Why, I shall do nothing of the kind!"

Jim and Artie exchanged a glance. Strange how motionless the woman was, standing with her one arm still outstretched, all the while that she gloated or mocked or threatened!

"No?" Artie went on. "After causing the death of four members of Pres Grant's cabinet, along with the guard on the door?"

"And plotting to assassinate Grant as well?" put in Jim.

"Not to mention throwing an innocent baby out the window of a moving carriage! Oh, you'll swing," Artie assured her.

She chuckled. "But first, I shall have those blast cloaks. Give them to me now!" There was a soft susurration from her direction, then the woman began to move closer, her gait steady and even stately, her other arm gradually lifting towards them. "Give me the cloaks!"

Frowning, Jim and Artie turned a look at each other. That last command had seemed to come not from the woman gliding towards them, but from the carriage behind her. "Jim," said Artie, "are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I'm thinking it's never wise to take things — and especially not people — at face value when Dr Faustina is involved."

"Oh? Because _I'm _thinking it wasn't my best idea ever when I forgot and left my blast cloak back in the baggage car just now. You?"

"Lost it under the rubble of the varnish car when those Good Samaritans pulled us out."

"Oh, marvelous," said Artie. "Because look it what Dr Faustina is doing now!"

She was pacing ever closer to them, her left hand turning back the hem of her right sleeve to reveal that strapped to her wrist was the same sort of device they had last seen on the arm of the _faux _Mrs Richmond.

And as the woman in red drew ever closer, her hand hovered over the button strapped to her wrist, making ready to press it.

"Great!" muttered Artie. "She's another walking bomb! And here we are with no blast cloaks!"

"Let's see how fast she can run in that skirt then," Jim suggested.

"Sounds good to me!" And the men pelted off in different directions.

_Pow! _The little derringer in Miklos' hand went off, and both agents dove for the ground. Jim rolled and was back up on his feet in an instant. His partner, however…

Jim heard a groan and whirled. "Artie!" He raced back and dropped to one knee at his best friend's side. "Where are you hit?"

"My… my leg. It's not bad, I think. Just… just barely nicked me."

Jim yanked a handkerchief out of a pocket and crammed it over the spot. On the briefest of glances, he decided Artie was right: just a flesh wound, nothing life-threatening.

Well, except for the fact that it made Artie a much slower target now. Jim glanced up and saw that Dr Faustina was much closer now, only ten feet away. There was no cover anywhere near. Miklos, with still another bullet in his derringer, had the small gun trained on the two men. With his other hand he gestured at them, obviously conveying that he would shoot at them again if they dared to move. He circled around them, keeping well away from the walking bomb even as she continued to stalk ever closer to the agents, closer, and closer still. Nine feet away… eight feet… seven…

"Go on and get out of here, Jim!" Artie groaned, clutching at his wound.

"I'm not leaving you here!" Jim insisted. He grabbed Artie's arm and threw it over his shoulders, starting to rise.

Miklos stamped a foot to gain their attention, then glared at them down the barrel of his gun.

"Well," Artie murmured, "What can I say to that except that it's been nice knowing you, pal."

Jim started to reply, but whatever he might have said was drowned out just then by a new sound that burst into being through the stillness of the night. A sound of wheezing and groaning, rapidly becoming louder. The agents, and Miklos as well, stared about in all directions to see where the noise was coming from.

Just then Dr Faustina arrived within five feet of Jim and Artie. Immediately her hand pressed the button on her opposite wrist.

_FOO…! _

_SHTUNK!_

Jim and Artie looked up, glad to be alive, to see that standing before them, its suddenly solid bulk shielding the agents from the explosion, was a tall brown cabinet.


	12. Act Four, Part Two

**Act Four, Part Two**

There was silence, as if all the night were holding its breath. Then came the squeak of the cabinet door opening along with a brilliant light angling out through the doorway. The light was shortly eclipsed partway by a slight, svelte figure leaning heavily upon a walking stick.

"Lily!"

"Oh, Artemus, you _are _bleeding, aren't you? I saw on the monitor, and sent… Well, never mind that. Jim, bring him in here." She stepped back and made room for Jim to support Artie inside and over to the parlor chairs. As Jim settled his partner into one of the seats, Lily limped along behind them and leaned over a pair of chairs turned front to front. "Look, darling. Here are Daddy and Uncle Jim!" From the makeshift bassinet she lifted…

"Peaches!" Artie somehow managed to beam even while grimacing. "Oh, baby, are you all right? Give her here, Lily. Let me see." He held up his hands, and while Jim pulled another chair over and propped Artie's injured leg onto it, Lily settled Suzie onto her Daddy's lap.

Artie hugged and kissed his little girl, then made a quick inspection of her that found her to be in perfect health, and with the tracking button still firmly sewed into its place. He snapped his fingers. "Of course! _That's _why you weren't found, sweetie: you were in the TARDIS! And, Rosalind, are _you _a sight for sore eyes too! Where ya been?"

"How bad is his leg, Jim?" Lily asked.

"Flesh wound. He needs to keep direct pressure on it to stop the bleeding," and Jim took one of Artie's hands and jammed it over the handkerchief again, "and I need to get the first-aid kit from the sick bay. I'll be right back."

"Oh, but you don't need to do that!" Lily called to Jim's back as he strode for the interior door. "I already sent… _Oh!"_

Jim whirled, and Artie started half out of his chair. Lily was jerked backwards away from them, a hand clamped on her arm, another hand holding a derringer to her head. "Well!" said an all-too familiar voice, "now that this charming little family reunion is over, may I remind you gentlemen that Miklos' gun here still has one bullet left!" Dr Faustina, still alive and in one piece, pulled Lily toward the open door and called out, "Miklos, come!"

A moment later her giant assistant stepped inside, then stared all around himself in amazement. Faustina too was gazing at the vast console room in which they were standing. "But what is this?" she exclaimed. "A box that materializes out of thin air? And is larger on the inside? Extraordinary!" She whirled towards Artie. "This is another of your inventions?"

"I'm not surprised to see you're still around, doctor," said Jim. "It was pretty obvious that you wouldn't really blow yourself up."

Faustina scowled at him. "I am speaking to Mr _Gordon!" _she snapped. Turning again to the injured agent, she repeated her question: "You invented this amazing cabinet?"

Artie's jaw worked, his eyes fixed on that gun at Lily's temple. "Something like that."

"But this is excellent! Marvelous! You will show me at once how it works!"

"It's a bit over your head," said Jim, glaring at her.

"_You _will hush; I am not talking to you. Miklos!" She nodded her head, and the giant stalked towards Jim. "Remove him," the doctor ordered. "Mr _Gordon _is the inventor; Mr West is merely the muscle."

Artie, immobile on his chair, scoffed softly. "Shows how much she knows," he muttered to himself, then called out, "Careful, Jim! Remember that other time!" for there had been a time once before when Jim had had to fight a giant here in the console room. That altercation had ended with Voltaire crashing right through the glass cylinder enclosing the time rotor, smashing it to pieces, and Artie certainly didn't want a repeat of _that!_

Jim too had no desire to have such a thing occur again. He darted away from both the interior door and the console, his eyes locked on Miklos as the big minion changed directions to intercept him.

"Quickly, Miklos, get him out of here! Remember how the lab was destroyed when you fought Mr West before. I wish to use this marvelous box, and need it whole, not damaged!"

Miklos nodded and charged at Jim. The much smaller agent stood his ground as the bigger man drove onward — and at the last second slipped to one side. Miklos crashed into a storage cabinet along the wall, shattering its glass door and strewing its contents across the floor.

Jim snatched up an item that had fallen out. "Well, big fellow?" he said, taunting. "You ready to take this outside?"

Miklos snarled and scrambled to his feet, lunging after Jim once more. Again the agent slipped to one side.

But the big man's reach was longer than Jim had anticipated. That black-gloved hand caught at him, seizing the back of Jim's neck in a steely grip.

"Excellent! Deal with him outside," said Faustina with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Miklos grinned and hauled his captive out the door.

…

As he allowed Miklos to frog-march him out of the TARDIS, Jim casually tucked into a pocket the item he'd picked up from the spilled contents of the cabinet. But once the big minion slammed the door shut behind them, Jim reached up over his shoulder, grabbed the bigger man by arm and glove, and sent him flying up and over Jim's head to land heavily on the cobblestones. While Miklos lay gasping, Jim realized that he was holding something in his hand again.

Jim examined it. A glove, big and black, and…

And familiar. Somehow in the act of throwing his opponent, Jim had also yanked the glove off Miklos' left hand.

He tossed the thing down, and instantly Miklos scrambled to reclaim it. Quickly the big man pulled the glove back on, but not so quickly that Jim didn't get a good look first. A glint of metal caught Jim's eye, from what was undeniably a shiny metal hand!

That explained a lot, thought Jim. "Did Dr Faustina do that?" he asked the minion. "You lost your hand, so she gave you a new one?"

Miklos nodded as he clambered back to his feet. He curled his left hand into a fist, smiling exultantly.

Jim had no trouble guessing what that gesture was intended to convey. "And you say your special hand is very strong, right?"

Miklos grinned, then charged at Jim again.

…

At the last possible second, just as the TARDIS door had slammed shut behind Jim and Miklos, Artie had seen his partner's eye convulse shut in a wink.

Artie shook his head and mumbled, "Hope he knows what he's doing!" But he had no time to indulge in any further worry about his partner, for Dr Faustina was demanding, "Does that door lock?"

Neither Artie nor Lily replied.

Faustina shook her captive by the arm. "I asked a question, and I expect an answer! Do not let foolish bravery earn you a bullet, Mrs Gordon. Does that door lock?"

Artie's eyebrows quirked. "In fact, it does," he replied.

Faustina's attention turned to him. "Then go lock it."

"I would," he responded, "but as you can see, I'm somewhat indisposed at the moment."

"Then _you _lock it!" the mad doctor said to Lily. "And no tricks." She released her captive and trained the derringer instead on Artie and the baby. "Quickly now!"

"Ah…" Lily frowned toward Artie, who smiled back reassuringly. His lips moved silently; she strove to read them, but could make out only the final two syllables: Ace Gray.

Ace Gray? Who was that, Lily wondered as she obediently crossed the room to lock the outside door.

"Now," said Faustina, "give me the key." She held out the hand that wasn't holding the gun.

"But…" said Lily, only to be interrupted by her husband.

"No, no, no," said Artie. "You don't want _her _key." He produced something from his pocket and held it up. "Hers is merely an auxiliary key. You want the _master _key." And as Faustina eyed him with suspicion, he dangled the key invitingly and added, "Mine does things that hers doesn't."

An avaricious gleam came up in Faustina's eye. "Very well then, I'll have that key." She took a step closer, then paused and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Mr Gordon, I do believe you are trying to lure me close enough for you to wrest my gun from me!"

"Me?" He blinked innocently at her. "I can't even get up!"

"You'll understand if I don't trust you," Faustina replied. "Mrs Gordon, you go and fetch… But no. I don't want _you _over there with him either. Ah…"

"Oh, here!" said Artie, and he tossed the key to the floor at Faustina's feet.

Swiftly she bent and scooped up the key, glanced at it briefly, then added it to the key ring at her waist. "Now," she said, "you will explain to me how this machine of yours works. How did it appear out of thin air? How is it larger on the inside? What is the function of this table here?" Faustina crossed to it and glanced down at the multitude of dials and switches strewn over its surface. One of the labels caught her eye, and she started in surprise. "Destination _time?" _she exclaimed. Eager conjecture sent her voice soaring an octave higher than usual. "Time! Extraordinary! Then this machine has the capacity to travel in _time? _But of course! That explains everything! It transcends dimensions! This is why the interior is larger than the exterior, and why it can disappear from one location to appear again at another without the tedious business of passing through the intervening space! Mr Gordon, I congratulate you! The wonder of the ages, and you have inven…" At this point she looked up again and scowled. "Where is Mrs Gordon?" she demanded. "And for that matter, where is the baby?"

Artie gazed back at her in mild surprise. "Mrs Gordon? The baby?" He looked around and shrugged his shoulders. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Do not play games with me, Mr Gordon!" snapped Faustina. "They were right here, and now they are not!"

Artie's brows knit. "Here? But there's no one here except you and me. Don't you remember? You sent everyone outside: Jim and Miklos, and Lily and Peaches as well." He waved a hand at the outer door, and Faustina automatically turned to look at it.

Immediately Lily with baby Suzie in her arms rose from her hiding spot under the edge of the console on the opposite side from the mad doctor and darted for the interior door.

Faustina whirled. "Stop!" she cried, leveling the derringer at the running woman. "Stop or I shall shoot!"

"Go, Lily, go!" Artie hollered, overriding her.

Lily grabbed the door to wrench it open.

Faustina's finger squeezed the trigger.

And at that second, the whole TARDIS shook.

…

Miklos bounced off the outside of the TARDIS and came up slinging his head.

"It's a different proposition, isn't it?" called Jim. "Fighting when you don't have a whole lab full of equipment to throw at me?"

Miklos snarled and charged again, only to have Mr West dodge him once more. So far, with the exception of grabbing West by the neck just before the two of them left that strange cabinet, Miklos hadn't been able to lay so much as a finger on the federal agent. West was right: a confined space with plenty of impromptu weapons to fling at the smaller man was much more to Miklos' advantage. Here in the open street, the only items around were the cabinet and the carriage, and Miklos certainly couldn't throw the cabinet at Mr West!

The carriage though…

Miklos lumbered toward the conveyance, clambered into the driver's seat, and slapped the reins over the horse's haunches, urging the draft horse to overtake James West and mow him down!

…

The TARDIS shook from an impact on the outside, and both women lost their footing.

"Lily!" cried Artemus. He scrambled to escape from his chair despite his injured leg.

Faustina too was scrambling, trying to scoop up the derringer once more. She frowned at it once she had it in hand again. Surely she had just fired it? Yet there had been no sound of the shot. Yes, and here was the second bullet, still in its chamber. How…?

"We're all right!" Lily called back to her husband. Once again she grabbed the handle of the interior door. Once again Faustina aimed her gun to fire it. And this time…

"Oh, we say!" came a voice. "We've had a devil of a time finding that room, Mrs Gordon — what was it you called it? the sick bay? — but we've brought the first-aid kit as you requested, and… Great Scott! _You!"_

…

Jim saw the touch of madness in the eyes of the onrushing horse as Miklos whipped the poor animal into a frenzy. And Miklos saw the determination in West's eyes as the carriage raced closer. The big minion was sure that his opponent would do as he had done before: stand fast in place until the very last second, then dart to one side. Miklos braced himself to haul the reins either right or left to stay on West's trail.

And so it came as a complete surprise when West took off running — _towards _the carriage. He seized the horse's harness and vaulted himself onto the animal's back, then grabbed the reins and hauled back on them, bringing horse and carriage to a halt.

For a mere moment Miklos gaped in awe over his opponent's feat of superb athleticism. Then rage overcame him again and the big minion launched himself at the slighter man who had stopped the carriage, wrapping his arms around Jim as he knocked him from the horse to land with a crash on the cobblestones of the street.

…

A stranger stood in the doorway that led to the interior of the TARDIS, and few people Artie had ever met in his entire life fit the word _stranger _better. He was an older man, bedecked in a resplendent blue uniform of a style Artie had never seen before, with gold epaulettes at his shoulders and a peacock feather sprouting jauntily from his beaver hat. He was also flanked by a pair of mutts of haphazard ancestry, both of which were growling, their hackles bristling, as they and the man they attended stared with disgust at Dr Faustina.

The mad doctor had not yet taken notice of the trio; she was scrutinizing the derringer in her hand, scowling at it as she muttered, "Why won't you _work?"_

"Excuse me, our dear," said the apparition in the interior doorway. He gave a bow as he stepped aside to allow Mrs Gordon with the baby to hurry from the main room. And once Lily had drawn the door to behind them — but leaving it slightly ajar, Artie had no doubt, so she could eavesdrop on the goings-on still — the man in the outlandish outfit stepped forward, picked up the walking stick Lily had dropped in her haste to hide with the baby, and once again addressed the madwoman in red. With a loud _harumph_, he barked out, "Dr Faustina!"

Now at last she noticed him and whirled. "You!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, we! Norton the first, Emperor of these United States and Protector of Mexico. A man you have _mocked_, madame, and executed in effigy! You are worthy of a horsewhipping for your actions, which sentence we would gladly carry out in person, were it not that we have never raised a hand in anger against a woman in our life, and are not about to start now. You, sir!" He turned toward the man seated in the parlor area. "We should like to deputize you that you might visit our Imperial justice upon her person in our stead." He held forth the walking stick to Artie.

Artemus gave a charming smile and inclined his head politely. "Your Imperial Majesty, let me assure you that it would give me great pleasure to see your sentence carried out, as well as the punishment she has earned by dint of several murders she has orchestrated, but as you see," and he gestured to his leg wound, which had soaked through the handkerchief he'd been holding in place, "I'm not exactly in shape to mete out a horsewhipping just now."

"Ah," said Norton, peering at the injury. "So you aren't, so you aren't. Oh! But you must be the chap Mrs Gordon sent us to find this first-aid kit for! _Mr _Gordon, isn't it?" He handed over the lidded wooden box.

Faustina glowered at the two men who were occupied with their oh-so cordial conversation as to who was to horsewhip her. _Her! _As if she were not still in possession of a gun! Well, if they had forgotten she was armed, they would remember now! She aimed the derringer at the insane Emperor Norton and demanded, "Unless you wish to die, Norton you old fool, you will raise your hands at once!"

The old man drew himself up and brandished his walking stick. "You dare, madame, to address your Emperor in that fashion?" he bellowed.

To kill such a man, Faustina reasoned to herself, would be no great loss to humanity — no doubt it would cause a perceptible increase in the average intelligence of the population! Her finger tightened on the trigger.

And at that moment the outside door burst open, admitting a single figure.

…

Jim had rolled as he and Miklos plunged from the carriage horse, endeavoring to see to it that his opponent bore the brunt of the impact with the hard cobblestone street. The groan that emanated from the bigger man after they landed told Jim he'd succeeded. Panting heavily, Jim came to his knees and rested for a moment, catching his breath.

Bad mistake. Miklos' eyes flew open, and that gloved metal hand sprang up and clouted Jim across the chin. He tumbled sideways, touched his chin and saw blood on his fingers, and with cold fury in his eyes launched into the bigger man, sending both crashing to the cobblestones again.

The battle raged all over the street round about the TARDIS, each man giving as good as he got, pounding each other, hammering each other, not holding anything back. And at the end, one figure lay on the pavement gasping and immobile while the other rose up and stumbled toward the TARDIS door.

…

All the occupants of the console room, both biped and quadruped, whirled to face the outside door as it burst open and a single figure staggered inside.

"James!" Artie called in delight. "Turn around, because it's good to see you're back!"

Faustina stared in consternation. "It is impossible! That door was locked!"

Jim, still breathing hard, leaned back against the door, closing it behind him. He then held up a small, familiar item. "It certainly was locked, but I have a key."

Faustina fired a glare at Artemus. "He has a… and you _knew _that!"

"Of course I knew," Artie chuckled. "Who do you think gave it to him in the first place?"

Her eyes darkened with fury. "That is _enough! _I have spent too much time already putting up with your insolence. Now, _one _of you is going to die; I need only decide which one." She pointed the gun in turn at each of the men in the room with her, ignoring the growls of the dogs when she aimed it at the Emperor.

"You," she said to the old man. "You are merely a fool, and while it would give me great pleasure to bestow upon the world the inestimable service of removing you from the land of the living, I have but one bullet, and I don't intend to waste it on you. But _you!" _

She shifted her attention toward the two agents, aiming now at one, now at the other. "I have dreamed of and labored toward this day for a very long time now," she said, "only to have the pair of you ruin my plans time and again. There is nothing I want more than to see the two of you die, especially by my hands. But again, I have only the one bullet, and therefore I must choose!" She aimed at Jim, who was still leaning against the door. "You're very decorative, and it's a pity to destroy such a work of art. But you are eminently tenacious — like the bulldog, you never let go! — and it would be foolish of me to permit you to remain alive.

"On the other hand," and now she turned toward Artemus, sitting on his chair with the first-aid kit open beside him, "I can think of few ways to wound you more deeply, Mr West, than to kill your partner, particularly right in front of your eyes." She tipped her head, regarding the injured man speculatively. "And yet much the same may be said of you, Mr Gordon, is it not so? For you as well do not give up a pursuit once you have embarked upon it, and you as well would be wounded to the heart to see Mr West die before your eyes." She shifted her aim back towards Jim. "There is also the fact that I still need Mr Gordon to explain the workings of this machine in which we stand, so that I may make use of it to maximum effect." She smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Why, I could return to New Orleans, to that very night of my humiliation, and ensure that your interference would come to nothing!"

"Not going to happen," said Artie, nonchalantly tending to the wound on his leg. "You might as well shoot me now, because I'll never teach you to fly this old girl!"

"Ah. I was afraid you'd say that," Faustina sighed. A moment later she brightened up again. "But that doesn't matter. I am a genius, so I shall figure it out for myself!" And even as Jim realized what she was about to do and took off running towards her, pulling something from his pocket, Dr Faustina aimed the derringer at Mr Gordon and pulled the trigger.


	13. Act Four, Part Three

**Act Four, Part Three**

_Click._

Faustina's brows knit as once again the gun failed to fire. She pulled the trigger again. _Click._

And at that moment something large and black flew towards her, flung from Mr West's hands. She looked up just in time to see it block out the ceiling, and within its deep surface she saw amazing things.

"It's full of stars!" she gasped just before the black cloak enveloped her. The derringer clattered from her hand as the cloak settled over her entirely before collapsing flat to the floor.

Norton and Artie gaped at the cloak, and the two dogs, whining, drew near to nose at it. "Um… Jim, what did you do?"

Jim too was stunned, but he gave a nonchalant shrug. "She wanted a blast cloak; she got a blast cloak."

"But…" Artie turned a puzzled look at his partner. "You said you lost yours."

"I did. But when Miklos crashed into that storage cabinet there, he knocked one out onto the floor. I didn't want her to realize one of her prizes was right there within reach, so I scooped it up."

"Ah. But then you threw it over her. Wrong way out, apparently." He leaned closer, wishing he could just walk over and examine the thing. "But I don't understand. Why did you do that?"

Jim shot him a startled look. "Artie, she was about to shoot you! I couldn't just let her kill you. So I… gave her the cloak. So to speak."

"You thought she… Jim, we're standing in a TARDIS."

"So?"

"Didn't I ever explain to you about Temporal Grace?"

Jim cocked an eyebrow. "If you did, I don't remember. What's Temporal…"

"Grace!" exclaimed Lily, bursting back into the room. "Of course, _that's _what you were saying, Artemus! I didn't catch the first word, though. I only made out the 'Ace Gray' part, but even then, I didn't understand what you meant. I suppose I should have known you'd resort to a foreign language, even if it _was _Latin of a decidedly piggish variety!"

"What, emporal-tay ace-gray? Artie, I wouldn't have caught what you were saying either," Jim said with a small shake of his head. "What is Temporal Grace, since I seem to have missed out on that particular lecture?"

"Well, it means that… Actually, let's have a little demonstration. Jim, would you pick up the derringer which with Dr Faustina was threatening us all?" As Jim did so, Artie went on with, "She attempted to shoot someone, oh, three or four times, but she never could get it to fire."

"No?" Jim examined the weapon along with its sole remaining bullet. "It didn't jam," he reported at length, "and I can see no physical reason for it to misfire."

"Go ahead and shoot it," said Artie, putting the finishing touches on the bandage around his leg. "Aim it at whatever you'd like, and pull the trigger."

Jim shot a sharp look Artie's way. "Aim it at _anything?" _he said. "You know as well as I do that you never aim a gun at anything unless you don't care if it gets shot."

"True, true. But go ahead and fire that gun, Jim. Right here in the TARDIS."

Still casting a look askance towards his partner, Jim crossed to a storage cabinet, brought out a filled sandbag, and propped it against the door. He stepped a few feet away, took careful aim, and…

_Click._

Again he examined the derringer, and again he tried to fire it. But the results were the same.

"All right, Jim," Artie added. "Now take it outside and try it again."

Jim hefted the sandbag and stepped outside. Again he set up his target, took careful aim, and…

_BLAM!_

"And that," said Artie from the doorway where he stood leaning heavily on Emperor Norton's walking stick, "is what I mean by Temporal Grace."

"In other words," said Jim, "you can't fire a weapon inside a TARDIS."

"Right."

"So you knew all along that her threat to harm Lily and the rest of us would come to nothing."

"Well…" Artie rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. "Not _all _along. I'd forgotten about Temporal Grace myself until right after she had Miklos haul you out of here." He stepped aside to let Jim reenter the TARDIS, then slipped his arm around his wife to bestow a kiss upon her first and then the baby.

Lily happily kissed him back, then gave a gasp. "Oh, but, Artemus — your TARDIS key! You've lost it! You handed it off to Faustina at her insistence, and now it's… well, wherever _she _is, inside that!" She waved a hand at the blast cloak, still lying in the middle of the floor.

Artie chuckled as he made his slow way back to the parlor. "Oh, don't worry about that, Lily. I still have mine. I palmed a different key off on her."

She gaped at him. "Why, you old prestidigitator! I didn't even notice! Then… all that business about your key doing things mine doesn't. It was all…?"

"Perfectly true!" He winked as he eased himself down into a chair. "After all, _your _key doesn't unlock the doors of the varnish car!"

Jim gave a chuckle. "I see. And that's a key you have no use for any longer."

"Sadly true."

"Well," said Jim, "we still have Miklos out there to deal with."

"Yes, and her in there as well!" Artie nodded toward the blast cloak.

"Can she escape from it?" asked Lily.

"Um…" said Artie.

"You know, that's a very good question," said Jim. "Have any very good answers, Artie?"

"Um…"

Lily looked at him. "You made the thing, Artemus. Don't you know if whatever goes into the blast cloak can ever come out again?"

Again he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, I just…" He gave a shrug. "I just figured we'd avoid anyone winding up inside it. Open portal to infinity, remember? Drifting eternally through outer space?"

"Then what do you want to do about Dr Faustina, Artie? She still needs to face justice for all her crimes."

"True, Jim, but…" Artie nodded at the cloak meditatively. "Isn't she imprisoned already? Granted, this isn't exactly the capital punishment she deserves, but it'll do, I think. Especially since I don't quite know how to release her."

"She's a genius," Jim pointed out. "She said so herself. She might just figure out a way to set herself free."

"Oh my!" exclaimed Lily. "And she knows so much about the TARDIS! She might start talking about your Gallifreyan technology, Artemus!"

"Well, then we lock the cloak away in a highly secure place somewhere in here where Rosalind can keep an eye on her," said Artie. "But you know, I wouldn't worry about Dr Faustina telling anyone about all the wonders she's seen in the TARDIS."

"No?"

Artie chuckled. "Well, of course not! She's a one-hundred percent, no-doubt-about-it, certifiably _mad _scientist. Who's going to believe her?"

"That's a good point," said Jim. "And for that matter…" He nodded towards Emperor Norton.

True. If the Emperor of these United States and Protector of Mexico should happen to relate to anyone his adventures in a flying box that prevented guns from firing, well, who would believe him either?

Artie smiled brightly at their remaining guest and held the walking stick out to him. "I nearly forgot to return this," he said as he handed it back to its rightful owner. "Many thanks, your Imperial Majesty," he added. "And now, may we drop you off somewhere?"

"And begging your Majesty's pardon," Jim added, "but… why are you even here?"

"Oh!" said Lily. "That's my tale to tell!" And she proceeded to tell it.

**End of Act Four**


	14. Tag Part One

**Tag Part One**

"Ready, dear?" asked Artie.

Lily sighed deeply. "As I'll ever be."

Artie exchanged a glance with his partner, then nodded. And Jim opened the door.

It was a small gathering in the chapel, chiefly comprised of Col and Mrs Richmond, some other agents of the Secret Service, and a few old friends Jim, Artie, and Lily knew here in San Francisco. A heart-breakingly tiny casket, all but buried under a multitude of lavish flower arrangements, lay upon the bier before the podium. As Artie limped in escorting his wife, a susurration swept through the room. How tragic, the loss of their only child! And in such a horrible fashion, murdered by an enemy! Oh, but look at the pair of them, trying so hard to bear up under the strain. Why, the mother looked to be on the verge of collapse!

Indeed, Lily _was _nigh on collapsing, though not from her faked grief. Her knee, albeit doctored and bandaged expertly by her husband's own hand, was absolutely killing her. She took her seat on the front row, glanced at the little casket, then burst into tears while Artie, at her side, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and leaned his head against hers.

Across the room, Jim stood at rigid attention before the door by which the three of them had entered. To those who knew him only casually, his face seemed a mask: stoic, impassive, unmoved. But those who knew him well, on the other hand, could read in his eyes the fury that an innocent child had died. A child whom he had loved.

Quietly the parson stepped up to the podium and gave a brief but eloquent sermon in remembrance of little Suzanne Fortune Gordon. Col Richmond, recollecting the unforgettable occasion on which Artie had preached his own funeral, was a bit surprised that the silver-tongued agent had not delivered his little daughter's eulogy. But, he thought, perhaps some griefs are too deep for words, even for Artemus.

Afterwards the pallbearers, Jim among them, carried the little casket out to the gravesite. When it came time for the bereaved to toss the first handfuls of dirt onto the casket, Lily broke down weeping, crying out, "Oh, I can't bear it! I can't! _Suzie!" _She buried her face in Artie's chest, beating him with her fists.

"There, there!" he said consolingly, wrapping his arms around her and patting her hair.

She wrenched back out of his embrace. " 'There, _there?' _What's that supposed to mean, 'There, there'? Our little girl is _dead! _And it's all your fault!"

"What, my… _my _fault? How is this my fault, Lil?"

"This… this _job _of yours!" she sputtered. "How many people in the real world have archenemies, of all things? Evil villains set on destroying them and all that they love?" Her voice increased in volume as she stormed at him. "I should have stuck with my original answer to you when you asked for my hand! I knew going into this that this life of yours would be full of nasty surprises — and now our Suzie paid the price for it!"

Artie stared at her for a long moment, his mouth open, stunned. "And… and this is somehow _my _fault? And just tell me this, Mrs Gordon: which one of us was it who went off for a doctor's visit and came back home carrying a bomb along with the baby, hmm? Never even _noticed _that Dr Faustina had slipped a bomb into your arms! How is that my fault, I'd like to know!"

She glared at him. "I was _hypnotized_, I might remind you! And we wouldn't have had this little problem of Dr Faustina wanting to kill us all if it weren't for _your job!" _She accompanied the final two words of that statement with a pair of jabs of her finger upon his sternum.

The assembled mourners stared at the feuding couple in consternation. Col Richmond's eyes sought out James West, and he nodded toward the angry pair. "Jim!" the colonel hissed. "Do something!"

Jim stepped between them. "Now, now, Lily, you're just upset. You don't really mean…"

"Don't you dare tell me what I mean or don't mean, Jim!" she railed at her husband's partner. "And for that matter, don't you dare tell me I'm 'just upset'! My baby is _dead! _I'm as far beyond upset as a… as the moon is beyond the sun!"

"Ah," put in Artie, "I… think you mean that the other way around, Lil…"

"I said don't anyone tell me what I mean!" she fumed. "And for that matter, don't 'Lil' me! I…" She stamped her foot for emphasis, nearly overbalancing as her sore knee protested, but recovered instantly. "In fact," she said, fumbling to yank the wedding ring from her finger, "I have _had _it! I want nothing more to do with you, Artemus Gordon. I… I never thought I'd hear myself say these words, but…" Her voice breaking, she threw the ring at Artie's feet and wailed out, "I'm going home to Mother!" She turned to storm away, nearly losing her balance once more.

Millicent Richmond instantly hurried to Lily's side to escort her away. "Oh, my dear!" she said softly as she supported the poor woman out of the cemetery, "Surely you don't mean that!"

"Surely I do, Mrs Richmond," Lily replied loudly, her voice carrying among the tombstones. "Artemus Gordon is now a closed book in my life — and good riddance!"

Col Richmond, meanwhile, strode over to his two best agents. He bent and picked up the ring, then handed it to Artie. "I wouldn't put too much stock in what she's saying right now, Artemus," he said quietly. "It's the grief talking; you know that."

Artie took the ring from the colonel, looked at it for a long moment, then shook his head. "No, Colonel, it's not just the grief talking — it's _Lily _talking. She knows good and well that no matter how she tries to talk her way out of it, the fact remains that _she's _the one who brought the bomb home to us." His eyes blazing, he looked up at Jim, then at their boss. "It's _her _fault Peaches is gone," Artie said clearly, his voice carrying all through the graveyard. "Because of her, my daughter is dead. And that's unforgivable.

With a flick of his thumb Artie sent the symbol of his marriage into the grave along with the little casket. He then turned on his heel and limped away.


	15. Tag Part Two

**Tag Part Two**

Back in their hotel room, Jim took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the sofa. "That was quite a performance, Artie."

"Shh!" Artie looked all around, then gestured for the two of them to cross to the tall brown cabinet standing in the corner. Artie unlocked the door and both entered the TARDIS. Once the door was closed and locked behind them, Artie called out, "We're home, Rosalind! Is Peaches all right?"

A scene of the nursery flashed up on the monitor screen, the baby lying in her bassinet trying to eat her toes.

"That's good," said Jim. "She seems content."

"For now, yes. She'll be missing her mama shortly, I'm afraid."

"As will you."

"Yes." With a heartfelt sigh, Artie dropped into a chair. "But you're right, Jim: that _was _quite a performance! The only thing more Lily might have done to cinch it all would have been to slap me." He laid a hand over his cheek and added meditatively, "Kinda glad she didn't think of that."

Jim smirked. "I bet you are." Taking his own seat opposite Artie, he leaned forward, hands clasped before him. "But you were right about one thing: we did have an extra… attendant, let's call him — at the funeral."

Artie sat up straight. "Harlequin!"

Jim nodded. "Yes. He was quite a distance away, probably to avoid calling attention to himself."

"Well, he _is _very distinctive!"

"True. But he was watching everything that happened at graveside."

"And no doubt heard it all as well. Good. I hope he believes the entire drama we all staged for his benefit! Which reminds me." From his pocket Artie drew a small leather folder, no bigger than the identification wallet he carried as a Secret Service agent. He opened the folder, glanced at the two pictures it bore within — one of Peaches in her mother's arms with Lily's face carefully snipped out, the other of an elderly woman who bore an extraordinarily strong resemblance to Artie himself.

Jim gave a chuckle. "Nice job you did there, buddy, of fabricating a photograph of your Great-Aunt Maude. It practically looks like yourself in drag."

"How do you think I made it?" Artie replied. He tapped a hidden button within the small wallet, and the two pictures blanked out to be replaced by a pattern of letters, numbers, and symbols where Great-Aunt Maude had been, while the area that had held the photo of Peaches remained blank, a small black vertical bar blinking in the upper left corner.

Artie started tapping the keys, and on the blank screen appeared the message of "I love you, Lil. Just thought I should affirm that to you. No hard feelings, I trust?" He pressed a button marked SEND, then waited.

Shortly the wallet began to vibrate, buzzing out the sequence of _short, long, short, short_. Artie smiled, recognizing the Morse code pattern for the letter L. He looked at the reply Lily had sent him.

"No, of course there are no hard feelings, darling!" said her message. "Is Suzie all right?"

"She must think her mouth's a TARDIS, since she's trying to cram her foot inside it," he wrote back.

"Oh good! I miss her so much already! Well, and you too, of course. Jim as well. Oh! But you do still have my real wedding ring, right? The fake one I pulled off and threw at you nearly didn't want to come off my hand!"

Artie smiled fondly as he typed back, "Oh yes, Lil. I'll keep it locked away in a safe place for you, so don't worry. Whenever we can end this charade, your ring will be ready and waiting for you."

"Good. Lovely. I'll talk to you soon, darling. ILY."

"I love you too, Lil. And remember! Keep this texting wallet on you at all times. It's very important! If Harlequin should come after you, use the emergency button I built into the device. That will alert me and Jim, as well as Rosalind, that you're in danger."

"Yes, Artemus, I will. _À bientôt_."

"_À bientôt_," he wrote in reply, then closed the wallet and put it away. With a great sigh, he said, "Well…"

Jim nodded. "Now for the next part of the plan." He eyed his partner. "What if Harlequin sees through this?"

"I've supplied Peaches with an emergency button as well. It's part of a perception filter I've built and, um… well, I embedded it under her skin, right here." He tapped the right side of his chest.

Jim cast him a look askance. "_Embedded _it?"

"Oh, it didn't hurt her, Jim. I made sure of that! I used the sonic screwdriver to numb the area first, and used a different setting to seal the site shut again. Even I can barely see the incision, and I made it."

"And it's part perception filter? If that's supposed to keep Harlequin from spotting her, you know he found the Gadfly even though she was using a perception filter."

"Yes, yes, he did. But that was only after she'd called attention to herself in an attempt to distract him from you and me. Unless he actively knows precisely where to search for her, the perception filter should serve to keep her from being noticed. It should also, uh… you know, mask the fact that she's not entirely human from anyone not specifically looking for an unearthly child."

Jim nodded. "Sounds like you've got all the exits covered, Artie." He got up and crossed to the console. "One more thing though." Jim fiddled with a few of the dials and switches, then typed on the big clunky typewriter affixed to the console under the monitor. "I'm asking Rosalind to scan for Harlequin or his TARDIS right now. He might be hanging around to see what our next move is."

Artie's head bobbed as well. "That's entirely possible, yes." He leaned back in his chair, feeling drained, as Jim assiduously watched the monitor.

"And… that's it. No sign of him," Jim reported. He turned from the console and strode through the interior door, disappearing deeper into the TARDIS.

Artie sat and waited, feeling vaguely useless because of his injured leg. Feeling also a hollow spot growing within him as he contemplated the next — indeed, the final — step of their plan. With both his hearts he didn't want to do this, but he saw no other way of keeping Peaches safe. After putting forth the myth that the baby was dead, neither he nor Lily could be seen with her. She'd been safe enough in the TARDIS for a couple of hours during the funeral, but that wouldn't do for the long term. She needed someone to take care of her, someone who could devote the time and energy to seeing to her every need night and day, week in and week out.

And most importantly, it would have to be someone Harlequin would never suspect, in a place far removed from the Wanderer.

Yes, Artie mused, in a different place, and a different time.

Jim returned, the baby tucked into the crook of his arm. "She was a bit ripe," he said with a smirk. "You picked a perfect time to be unable to report for diaper duty."

"Did you say 'duty,' or a similar word?" Artie rejoined. He sat up and accepted Peaches from his best friend. The baby gurgled and waved her arms, happy to be with Daddy and Uncle Jim. Artie swiftly banished the thought of how puzzled and unhappy his daughter would be shortly. Soon everything and everyone she had ever known would vanish from her life. "But we still love you," he told her gently. "Never forget that you are loved! And never forget that this man," and now, with his forehead leaning against hers, he conjured up an image of Harlequin and deposited the sight within her mind. "This man hates you and would like to kill you."

"A bit of a heavy thought to burden a baby with," said Jim. "Do you think she even understands?"

Artie shrugged. "I don't know. But it makes _me _feel better, at least, that I've warned her about Harlequin." He passed a hand over his face, then waved at the door. "All right, it's time. You'd better go."

Jim didn't budge. "I'm perfectly willing to go with you, you know, Artie. You don't have to do this alone."

Artie smiled a tired, resigned smile. "I know, Jim. And ordinarily I'd take you up on the offer in a heartbeat. But I don't want you to know where I'm taking her. That's why I waited till Lily was gone. If either of you knew for sure where I'd taken her and Harlequin figured that out, he'd come after you to try to wrest that information from you."

"And we can't spill the beans if we don't even have the beans," Jim agreed.

"Right. I'll, um… I'll take off and go zigzagging all over the place, past and future, to try to throw him off. Just in case."

Jim nodded and rested a hand on his partner's shoulder. "We know Suzie'll come through this. Don't worry." He chuckled and added, "Which is a bit like telling a cabbage not to smell like a cabbage."

"Hey! Are you saying I stink?" Artie objected, affronted.

Jim grinned. "If that's how you want to take it, sure. I'm just saying that you have a worrier's nature, and that nature always comes out." Jim now bent and placed a kiss on the baby's head. "See you later, Suzie," he said, then strode across the console room to exit the TARDIS.

At the door Jim turned back and leveled a finger at Artie. "But when you go after Vautrain to end this once and for all so that you can bring Lily and Suzie back, you are _not _leaving me out of it!"

What a wonderful thing it was to have as a best friend a man like James West! With a grin, Artie replied, "Oh, believe me, I wouldn't _dream _of leaving you behind for that one, pal! Well," he added with a touch of chagrin, "that's provided we can even _find _the bas... Er…" He glanced at the quietly alert infant cooing on his lap and amended the epithet to "um... child of unmarried parents."

Jim chuckled and left, closing the TARDIS door behind him. And for another minute or two, Artie just sat there with the baby on his lap, meditating on what he must do. At last he stood up, limped over to the console, and began resetting dials and switches, picking settings at random. When that was done, he perched himself on the seat before the monitor and pulled the lever.

Amidst mighty wheezings and groanings, the time rotor rising and falling, the TARDIS took off for parts unknown.

…

The TARDIS landed with its usual _SHTUNK_. Artie sat there for a very long time, holding that little bundle in his arms, studying her face, reflecting he might never see her again. Or at least, he told himself, he might never see her again like _this_.

He gave her one last kiss, swallowed hard, then exited the TARDIS and walked up to the small building the TARDIS had brought them to. Gently Artie laid his little girl down on the doorstep and used the knocker, then turned and limped quickly away without once looking back.

By the time someone answered the door, the wheezing sound of the TARDIS was fading. "Why, Dr Hughes, look! Someone's abandoned a baby!"

"What?" The middle-aged general practitioner came to see what his nurse was talking about.

"A little girl," Ingrid Hale was saying. "And not very old. Probably about, oh, three months old, I think." She took up the baby and added, "She seems healthy."

"Let's get her inside and check her over," said the doctor. He paused in the doorway and looked around. "I don't see anyone who might have left her. Is there a note?"

"No, nothing. Just the baby, in a lacy little dress." She cradled the baby in her arms, then frowned. "Huh. That's curious."

"Something wrong?"

"No. It's just that… these clothes she's wearing. They look like something out of the eighteen hundreds. And yet the cloth is new."

"Huh," the doctor agreed. "How strange." He took the baby from the nurse and as he began looking the child over, he said, "Well now, sweetheart, what are we going to call you?"

"She's a Jane Doe," the nurse remarked.

"True, Ingrid, but… Jane Doe…? No, that's too impersonal. Let me think… Oh, but of course! Sabeth and I have often said that if we had ever had children, we would have named a girl Elisabeth — Sabeth's full first name, you know — and called her Lisa for short."

The nurse gave a soft laugh. "Oh, Dr Hughes…"

"What?"

"You're getting attached already!" There was warning in Ingrid's voice, but also a hint of laughter.

"Am I? Well…" He carried the baby into an examining room and laid her gently on the bed. "Maybe I am," he said. "Is that a bad thing?"

_**Bonus scene, years later, years earlier…**_

In the early morning darkness there came a sound of wheezing, and then something was there where nothing had been moments before. A door opened and a teen-aged girl stuck her head out and breathed deeply.

"I like the smell of this place. It smells right. I think we're close now…" She laughed. "I know; I thought we were close before too. But this time… yes, it feels right." She stepped out and looked around. "But we're in the middle of nowhere? You couldn't have brought us into a town? What? Where?" She turned and looked off to her right. "Oh, you're right! Yes, yes, I know you're always right, Chip, but there they are, a man and a little girl, and both of them on foot. That guy, though, he looks like he can barely walk! So that's what you did? You landed us a short distance behind them, so we can give them a lift? All right, if that's the case, then you're going to need to be the conveyance, something that isn't anachronistic…"

There was a soft sound and she turned around. "A carriage? Am I a cabbie?" Another sound and now she said, "Oh, a wagon. That should work. Although I think the horse looks a bit odd… Yes, I know you don't really need a horse to pull you and we don't have an actual one available, but please try to make that holographic horse look a little more real, or people will be staring… Ok, yeah, that's better." She vaulted to the seat and took up the reins.

Shortly afterwards the small wagon overtook the slow-moving man leading a little girl by the hand. Reining up, the teen-aged girl driving the rig called out, "Hey, there! Need a lift?" And as she hopped down and helped both man and child into the bed of the wagon, she added cheerfully, "You can call me Lee."

**FIN**

_Author's note: Yes, __**that **__Lee, the girl who gave Jim and little Missie Sparrow a lift in the chapters of TNOT Unexpected Visit. She's back…_


End file.
